


To The Hills

by SlightlyTwistedSilverware, WelshWitch1011



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Character Deaths, F/M, Fluff, Government Conspiracy, Hive Is Gone, Inhumans vs Humans, Later FitzSimmons, Mentions of Suicide, Not Coulson Friendly, PTSD, Post-Maveth, Skyeward - Freeform, Smut, Ward Has Powers, Ward redemption, not Lincoln friendly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-21
Updated: 2017-02-12
Packaged: 2018-05-28 06:34:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 24
Words: 110,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6318493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SlightlyTwistedSilverware/pseuds/SlightlyTwistedSilverware, https://archiveofourown.org/users/WelshWitch1011/pseuds/WelshWitch1011
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Because sometimes, the villain of the piece starts out as the hero. </p><p>Skye finds out a shocking secret and must decide whether to stay with SHIELD, or fight for the lives of her people. (AU Season 3.5 onwards.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Sun's Coming Up Too Early, My Valentine

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys, so this is our new Skyeward fic. It's going to be a lot darker than our previous stories, and if you're a Coulson fan or a Skye/Lincoln shipper, this is NOT the place for you. We will not be held responsible for any hissy fits from either groups of fans (should Lincoln have any). Let us repeat, this is not a Coulson or Lincoln friendly fic. 
> 
> However, if you're here for lots of lovely Skyeward, some fluff, some smut, and later on, some FitzSimmons, then stay, grab a drink, and have a seat. 
> 
> We hope you enjoy the ride! :) 
> 
> Important note for this fic:
> 
> \- Ward did not torture Bobbi or Simmons! 33 acted alone, because really, we can't even address the BS that was that storyline.

"Seven minutes..."

The words tumbled from her lips on the tail end of a pleasured gasp, and she arched her back as his mouth found her neck once again. Threading her fingers through his hair, Skye grunted as her back was slammed against the wall, although not hard enough to cause her actual pain.

His fingers worked quickly and deftly at the zipper of her hoodie, and his right hand slid beneath the hem of her vest top as his left secured her to the wall, fastened to her hip. As he pressed closer to her, the swelling at his groin becoming more evident, she threw back her head and whimpered, all the while grinding against him eagerly.

"Shhhh," he murmured, pausing in his task of trailing kisses along the length of her throat and bare collarbone only long enough to rest a finger against her lips. Skye panted hard, her hands drifting to press against the hard plane of his chest, and she hazarded a smile despite the very real danger of imminent discovery.

"Where's the fun in that, Grant?" she breathed in reply, rising onto her tiptoes and nipping at his bottom lip.

Clasping her arms tighter around his neck, she murmured against his lips as he hoisted one of her legs up around his waist and ground harder against her. The action pulled a high-pitched, needy whimper from her that caused him to chuckle against her mouth.

"You know, Skye, we could just move this to your room," Ward gasped, pausing to catch his breath.

His hand swept over her breasts, dipping into the cup of her bra, and he felt her shudder as she too struggled to regulate her breathing.

"Daisy," she corrected him, a half smile on her face as she practically launched herself at him to initiate another searing kiss. Her head slammed back against the wall as he dragged his lips down her neck, and she bit down on her bottom lip as he paused at one particular spot and began to swirl his tongue around her skin in languid circles.

"Whatever you say... Daisy," he snorted derisively, although his smile was not unkind, and as her hand landed gently against his cheek, he inclined his head and kissed the centre of her palm in a tender gesture.

"You gonna leave me hanging, Grant?" she retorted, cocking her head and finding herself grateful for the chance to catch her breath, which proved to be a short lived reprieve as Ward's hand slid into her leggings and beneath her panties in response.

"Fuck," she gritted her teeth, resting her forehead against his and grasping at his shoulders as she writhed against the frantic pace of his fingers against her clit.

When she couldn't stand his taunting any longer, Skye grabbed the string of Ward's sweatpants and tugged at it insistently. He moved further into the cradle of her hips, letting out a quiet moan of his own when she pushed down his pants and boxers in one fluid move, freeing his erection.

He made short work of her leggings but didn't bother to remove her panties, instead choosing to simply nudge aside the scrap of black lace and slide his member straight into her slick core. Ever obliging, Skye wrapped first one leg around Grant's waist and then the other, and he cupped his hands underneath her rear in order to support her weight. Feet no longer touching the ground, Skye rested her back against the wall of the training room and sighed as he pushed deeper inside her.

Seconds later, she bit down on his bare shoulder in order to silence herself when he began a slow in and out rhythm that sent warm liquid pooling between her thighs.

"Four minutes," Skye hissed as she examined her wristwatch over Ward's shoulder, still mindful of the increasing likelihood that their tryst might be discovered by the next pair set to spar in the gym.

"Can you not do that?" Ward panted, stilling and letting his forehead rest against her temple, a teasing smile blossoming on his face as he added, "sucks the romance right out of it."

Skye grinned, her eyes affixing on his as she arched a dark eyebrow, "This isn't romance, Ward."

Not fazed by her response, Grant shook his head, leaning in closer as he sought out her lips, "Yes, it is."

He kissed her teasingly, tracing his tongue over her lower lip and then pulling away again. Skye slid her palm up his cheek, her thumb caressing the clean shaven line of his jaw in a tender gesture that blatantly disagreed with her previous statement.

"Shut up," she insisted, crashing their lips together once again in a hungry kiss, and whimpering as their hips began frantically moving against the other, and her body met his, thrust for thrust.

Skye groaned, hardly caring any more about the prospect of discovery as she pushed herself harder against Ward, forcing him deeper inside her.

"Close, baby?" Ward teased, his voice husky and his breath warm against her earlobe. His teeth grazed her skin and she whimpered, nodding her head in reply as she found herself unable to speak.

With one strong arm still fixed under Skye's rear, Grant pushed her sports bra up to her neck, exposing her breasts and allowing him to dip his head in order to fasten his lips around her left nipple. Skye panted as Ward's tongue lapped insistently at the sensitive bud, and she let loose a cry that was louder than she had anticipated when she felt a familiar warmth building between her legs and in the pit of her stomach.

"Don't... stop..." she hissed, slamming her eyes closed and gripping Ward's shoulders tighter. In response, his thrusts grew firmer and more frenzied, and he grazed his teeth slightly over the peak of Skye's nipple, smiling against her skin as her entire body grew tense and he felt her walls beginning to flutter around his length.

She came with a loud cry of his name escaping her lips, and Ward hurriedly raised his head and kissed her hard, muffling her drawn out yelp. Spurred on by the sound of his name tumbling from her and the sensation of her muscles clamping down around him, he followed her over the edge a few hurried thrusts later, subduing his own moans of pleasure by sucking down on her shoulder as he released inside her .

The couple stilled their movements, each still holding on fiercely to the other as they gasped for air, trembling hands caressing and tracing warm skin. Carefully, Ward released her from his grasp, allowing her to stand on shaking legs as they rearranged clothing and tried to look as inconspicuous as possible. He watched her tug down her sports bra, and she rolled her eyes as he reached out to help her, letting his fingertips wander the curve of her breast whilst his eyes greedily drank in the sight of her naked flesh.

On impulse, Skye leaned up to kiss him, although this time fuelled by something other than purely desire. Her fingers weaved through the short dark hair at the nape of his neck, and she smiled as he nuzzled his nose against hers before planting a kiss on the tip.

"Guess I should get back to kicking your ass, now," she goaded, laughing as he snatched a final kiss and then released her from his embrace. Stepping back from her, his dark eyes never leaving her face, he crooked his finger at her in a 'come-hither' gesture and smirked that infuriating smile that she had somehow strangely come to love.

"Bring it, baby."

Chuckling, Skye tightened her sloppy ponytail and gestured for Grant to move back over to the mats that had been laid out and yet quickly abandoned for their training session.

"Are you sure you're ready, Rookie?" she taunted, poking her tongue out at Grant mischievously as he pretended to appear affronted by her barb.

His playful retort was poised on his lips when the door of the training room was flung open and Bobbi sauntered in, Hunter striding in her wake with his duffel bag slung over one shoulder. Both were dressed for a workout and, as Mockingbird sneered in abject disgust in Ward's general direction, Skye realised that their session had undoubtedly come to an end. She let out a barely audible sigh, her heart sinking just a little as she realised that it was time to go back to the cleverly upheld pantomime that she and Ward were acting out, where they were neither lovers nor particularly firm friends.

Ward glanced between the newcomers and Skye, disappointment seizing him as he quipped, "Guess it's time to hit the showers, huh boss?!"

Skye bobbed her head, practically biting the inside of her cheek as she caught the blatantly suggestive glint in his eyes.

"We'll pick this up tomorrow, Agent Ward."

"Yes, ma'am," he replied, grabbing up his towel and water bottle, and openly staring at Skye as she did the same. His eyes ran over her figure as he snapped open the top of his bottle and then downed a large mouthful of the now warm water.

Bobbi threw her bag down beside him, intercepting his gaze and planting her hands on her hips. She had of course not detected the affectionate expression on his face, and had instead intercepted his appreciation of Skye's lithe yet pleasantly curvy figure.

"Give it up, Ward. That ship has well and truly sailed," Bobbi sniped, folding her arms across her chest as Ward threw his towel over his shoulder and strolled past her, arrogant swagger in tact despite her jibes.

Unable to resist, and with a smile twitching at his lips, Ward bent his head and caught her attention, "Oh, that ship's gone down, Morse. All the way down."

Blinking in confusion, Bobbi watched Grant retrieve his belongings and, after a mock salute in Skye's direction, slip outside the gym and into the corridor. The glower on Bobbi's face was enough to sour milk, and Skye pointedly kept her gaze fixed to her gym bag as she scrambled to stuff her towel and hoodie inside.

"I don't know how you can stand having that asshole touch you," remarked Bobbi, tilting her head as she watched Skye suddenly fumble and drop her bag onto the ground, spilling its contents at her own feet. Cursing, Skye stooped down and began shoving items back into her duffel, shooting Bobbi a small smile as she moved to help.

"Wh-what do you mean?" Skye inquired, pointedly avoiding Bobbi's gaze and hoping sincerely that the red blush rising up the apples of her cheeks could be mistaken for a product of exertion.

"Combat training," Bobbi clarified, shaking her head and blowing out a breath from between puffed out cheeks, "I'm telling you, Daisy, I'm surprised you've managed to stop yourself from putting two in the middle of his smug face."

"Those aren't my orders," Skye replied, finally meeting Morse's gaze, which contained a level of unparalleled hostility that caused her heart to skip a beat.

Skye stared down suddenly at her wrist as Bobbi reached out and curled her fingers around the younger woman's arm.

"Don't let him get to you, Daisy. You know as well as I do that he can't be trusted. The only reason he's here is because Coulson felt guilty for what happened. That parasite should have killed him, he should be dead now. FitzSimmons dragged that Hive thing out of his ass because Coulson wanted to sleep at night. But Ward doesn't deserve your pity, and he sure as hell doesn't deserve your friendship."

"Ward and I aren't friends," Skye insisted, tugging her arm free and glowering at Bobbi, "but it was my call to bring him in to the Caterpillars, and he's proving himself..."

Bobbi interrupted her with a wry smile and a gust of laughter that made Skye halt in her tracks.

"Please, Daisy. We all see how he looks at you, it makes me want to vomit. He may be loyal to you for now... but can you honestly say he's loyal to S.H.I.E.L.D.?"

Skye pretended to ponder the query for only a moment before she hoisted her bag up onto her shoulder and glared at the Specialist.

"I don't know, Bobbi. I guess you're the expert on that."

Skye strolled out of the gym, ignoring the thunderous glare Hunter shot her with aplomb.

"Save it, Hunter," she snapped, letting the door slam closed behind her with a resounding crash that aptly displayed her rage.

Exchanging dark looks as the door was left swinging in Skye's wake, Bobbi and Hunter moved over to the training mats and, still dwelling on their mutual hatred of the man who had succeeded in dividing the base, begin their usual training routine with just a touch more venom than normal.

x-x-x

Grant fumbled with the lock on his door, attempting to ignore the fatigue that was clouding his mind as he struggled to slide the key card into the mechanism. He groaned and rolled his eyes as the red light on the side of the machine once again winked at him, denying him entrance to his own sanctuary, and ensuring that it was becoming increasingly more likely that he would run into yet another agent who hated him as he was forced to loiter in the hallway.

Although he was certain he deserved their black looks and muttered threats, and as many insults as they cared to throw at him, he was fresh from his latest session with his therapist, and he was bone weary. He hated talking about the thing that had invaded his flesh and rendered him a murderous puppet, perhaps more than he had ever detested reliving his childhood, or the abuse he had suffered at Garrett's hands, but his psychiatrist never seemed to be satisfied until he had been reduced to a quivering emotional wreck on her couch. His most recent appointment had been no different, and Grant could still feel the dried tear tracks that stained his cheeks, making his skin feel as though it had grown tighter against his cheekbones.

Gritting his teeth as he grew frustrated with the lock mechanism, he swiped the card one final time and was relieved to see the light flash green. He opened the door with mounting unease as he detected the presence of another inside the room. His senses seemed to come alive all at once, and he stilled his hand on the door handle as he steadied his nerves.

The last thing he needed was Coulson breathing down his neck for not being able to control his powers, which could be destructive to say the least. However, as his eyes swept the dimly lit room and halted upon the figure stretched out on his bed, he breathed a sigh of relief, finding himself powerless to thwart the smile tugging at his lips.

He closed the door behind him with a gentle click, locking it behind him for good measure - a habit he was loathed to admit he had adopted since returning to the Playground. There were just too many people he assumed wanted him dead for him to risk taking chances, except for the woman smiling back at him, who was quite possibly the only person he implicitly trusted any more. It was an ironic turn of events, given their turbulent history together.

"Whattup?" Skye greeted him, blushing slightly at her quip, which harked back to a time long past.

Ward shrugged off his jacket and tossed it onto a nearby chair before removing his wallet and phone from his jeans pocket, and then placing them next to each other on the dresser.

"You don't need to check up on me, Skye," he said, his tone not unkind as he turned to meet her gaze. Both confused and slightly irritated by his assumption, Skye shrugged and gestured to the night-stand, where a plate with a metal cover sat waiting for him, along with a can of soda.

"I wasn't. I brought you dinner since I figured you wouldn't have had a chance to eat yet. I just... I thought you and I could spend some time together."

Ward finally spotted her laptop and the bag of chips nestling on the bed next to her, and he closed his eyes as realisation and regret washed over him in perfect sync.

"But... I can go if you'd rather be alone. No big deal," she muttered with a small shrug, and he knew from both her tone and her body language that it was indeed a very big deal.

As Skye brushed past him, heading towards the door, Ward spun around and captured her hand, which he drew into his chest quickly.

"Stay," he murmured, swallowing hard as he added, "please?"

Nodding, although somewhat more subdued than she had been when he had first entered the room, Skye moved into Ward's arms and embraced him. Surprised but pleased, Ward pulled her into his chest, his hand cupping the back of her head as he leaned down and brushed a kiss against her crown.

"Tough day?" Skye inquired, doing her best to keep her tone light and breezy, although Grant could easily tell that she had grown tense by the way she kept shifting her weight from one foot to the other.

"No more so than usual," Grant replied, sighing and beginning to rake his fingers gently through to the ends of Skye's hair. It was growing at an astounding rate, already well past her shoulders and snaking down her back in thick, glossy waves. He much preferred it to the close cropped style she had sported when he had first returned to S.H.I.E.L.D.; it made her seem not only younger and softer around the edges, but also somewhat more carefree.

"How was therapy?" she pressed, arching an eyebrow as she drew back in order to evaluate him with just a single probing look. Ward cowed immediately, his fingers tightening on her back and a sudden darkness crashing across his features with alarming speed. He found it much harder these days to lock down his emotions, as though the thing that had squatted inside him had picked and chipped away at his carefully constructed armour until it had been decimated. His lips twitched and he sucked in a harsh breath as he attempted to replace the mask of the Specialist, but it seemed that his errant emotions just wouldn't comply these days. Sometimes, when he was in Skye's presence, he was half convinced that this was only a good thing; at others, he feared that one day it might cost him everything that he had come to hold dear.

"Hey, it's okay," Skye soothed, reaching up and touching his forehead, "we don't have to talk about it yet. Just... One day, when you're ready."

Ward swallowed hard, drawing her hand back towards his lips and kissing it repeatedly. He interwove their fingers tightly, his thumb brushing her wrist, and he watched in evident surprise as she placed her free hand to his chest and swept her palm over the firm muscle and bone beneath his shirt.

Her mind flashed back to images of him strapped to a metal table, his agonised cries piercing her ears as Fitz and Simmons, clad in bio-hazard suits, worked on him with evident duress. No trace of the creature, or indeed even the hint of a scar, marred Ward's skin now, almost as though his entire body had been made new again. His mind, on the other hand, was proving more difficult to heal.

"Skye... don't," he said darkly, not wanting to follow her down the path her thoughts had taken.

Skye blinked rapidly, allowing her gaze to tick between his face and the plate of food she had stolen away for him.

"You should eat something. Then maybe we can watch a movie?"

Stroking his fingers down her cheek, he bobbed his head in ready agreement. "Sounds good. But... won't they be looking for you?"

Shaking her head, Skye allowed him to fold her into his arms, and she rested her forehead on his chest with a contended sigh that surprised even herself.

"I don't care. I... I thought I'd stay here tonight, if that's okay with you?" she smiled teasingly, fairly confident that Grant was not about to protest against her sleeping in his bed. She sincerely hoped he wouldn't anyway, or the fact that she'd already set her toothbrush down next to the sink in the adjoining bathroom would prove highly embarrassing.

Ward appeared startled at the suggestion, his eyes widening infinitesimally. Slowly, he nodded, although the hopeful expression spread across his face wavered.

"Are you sure?" he checked, unable to help himself from reaching out and tucking an errant strand of hair behind her ear. Skye beamed in response, leaning into the warmth of his fingertips.

"Of course I'm sure," she scoffed, arching a brow as though daring him to challenge her. However, still the pragmatist, Ward took a deep breath and quelled his own desire momentarily.

"What about Bobbi and Hunter?"

"They're not invited," Skye replied, chuckling as Ward let out a sigh and rolled his eyes, although his apparent annoyance was clearly feigned.

Her arms looped around his neck and Ward slid his hands around her waist automatically, pulling her closer despite the troubled expression playing across his features.

"Why are you risking all of this for me, Skye?" he asked, glancing at the as yet untouched plate of food and then the laptop she had managed to sneak into his room. Taken aback by the question, Skye shook her head, suddenly finding herself uncharacteristically lost for words.

Contemplating her developing feelings for Grant Ward made her head spin, yet despite all that had transpired between them, and the pain they had both caused each other, she knew one thing to be true; she now understood. She knew how this abused and battered young boy came to be the man that had betrayed her. She understood that cruelty and evil had followed Ward for all of his days, even until his untimely demise, which in itself had been totally devoid of mercy. Now, with the option to start over again, Skye wanted to give him the chances that had previously been denied to him. And if she had somehow managed to fall in love with him once again, perhaps it was just meant to be. They were alike in so many ways, and Skye was all too aware that it was only the natures of the influential figures in their lives that had made that vital difference.

Almost choking on a desperately formulated response, Skye finally lifted her gaze to his.

"Because I'm not giving up on you this time. Maybe I think you're worth the effort?!"

She slid her fingertips around the back of his neck and pulled him closer until their lips were almost touching, and yet still Grant appeared uneasy.

"There's a darkness inside me, Skye."

Her lips ghosted his, and she allowed their foreheads to meet.

"There's a darkness inside us all, Grant. I feel it coiling up inside of me sometimes, and I wonder if it's part of me... like my dad... like my mom. You don't know how they all looked at me when I got my powers, like I was dangerous, like I was a monster."

Ward clasped the back of her head and held her closer, her words pricking at his heart.

"You could never be a monster, Skye. I think you're... spectacular," wisps of a smile tugged at his lips as he recalled watching her unleash her powers for the very first time.

Skye smiled a self-conscious smile, preferring to turn the conversation back onto Ward once again.

"Stop questioning this, Grant. I'm here because I want to be and if they find out, we deal with it. I'm not going anywhere so get used to it. This isn't about sex for me..." she grinned, striving to lighten the moment, "although I was totally hoping tonight could be a 'Netflix and chill' kind of deal."

Consenting to a genuine smile, Ward bobbed his head in agreement before leading Skye over to the bed by the hand and watching as she settled herself back against his pillows. Her fingers were soon dancing across the keyboard of her laptop as she searched for something to occupy their time, and their thoughts; something that would keep the darkness at bay for them both for just a little while.

"Eat up," Skye coaxed, eyes still glued to her screen as she gestured wildly with one hand towards the plate, "or your mush will get cold."

"You make it sound so appetising," Grant replied, shaking his head as he gingerly lifted the lid off the plate and frowned at the unidentifiable brown goop that greeted him.

"Simmons cooked," Skye said, almost apologetically.

"At least I know it's not just me she's trying to kill," he returned, lifting a forkful of the chilli to his lips and then chewing and swallowing with a wince.

Skye nodded absently, her lips twisting into a frown as she replied through a sigh.

"Except for Lincoln. They're besties right now. At least, until she finishes up that cure and he can go home and quit being a freak," she continued bitterly.

Clicking on a romantic comedy with a slightly devious grin, Skye opened the bag of chips and shoved her hand inside with the most dramatic of rustles. She felt the bed dip beside her as Ward moved closer, and she blinked as she turned and found herself almost nose to nose with him.

"You're not a freak," he replied patiently, for perhaps the thousandth time that week alone. "Lincoln's a fucking idiot."

"You hate him, anyway," Skye scoffed, laughing as she fell back in his arms and they arranged themselves against the headboard.

"Maybe," Ward grunted, displaying absolutely no remorse over the fact. A frown creased his features, and the distaste was evident in his tone. "I don't like thinking about... you and him."

Skye sighed, laying her head on his chest and glancing up at him with a reassuring and yet vaguely teasing smirk.

"Ward, seriously, Lincoln and I lasted all of five minutes. I mean, literally..." she grimaced for effect, poking him in the ribs and watching as a characteristically smug smile appeared on his face at her inference.

"Can we please just watch the movie, now?" Skye grumbled, tossing her hair over her shoulder and sighing.

"I'm here with you..." she murmured softly, lifting her head and leaning up into a kiss as Grant obliged by craning his neck, "and that's exactly where I want to be. So let's just pretend to watch this probably crap-tastic movie so I can get into your pants, 'kay?!"

A rumble of laughter vibrated beneath her cheek, and she smiled contentedly as she felt his hand curl around her hip. His breath drifted across the shell of her ear and she shivered in delight.

"Well, when you put it like that..."

The next ninety minutes passed by in a blur of whispered affirmations and warm skin against skin, and neither one of them regretted a single second.


	2. I  Feel It Here On My Skin Like Demons

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for talk of PTSD and suicidal thoughts. Also, minor smut... ;)

_**10 months earlier...** _

Skye wasn't sure what had awoken her but as she sat up in bed, heart hammering in her chest, a sense of dread and unease settled over her.

She couldn't recall a nightmare that had sparked such a response, and as she flipped on the lamp on the night-stand, she found her room empty and as silent as the grave.

Deciding to get out of bed for a glass of water, Skye threw back the covers and padded barefoot towards the kitchen, clad only in her pyjama pants and tank top. Nobody else was likely to be awake at such an hour anyway.

Forgoing the light switch in the communal lounge, she walked a well practised route to the kitchen, yawning against a wave of tiredness as she wandered towards the sink. It was only then that she noted movement out of the corner of her eye, and suddenly every nerve ending in her body was alert. Moving towards the silent figure, she narrowed her eyes against the hindrance of darkness and fumbled for the light switch. The view that greeted her made her breath catch in her throat, and she crossed her arms over her chest in mild irritation.

"Ward? What the hell are you doing sitting out here in the dark?" she demanded, suddenly swallowing hard as she noted the bottle of bourbon and open vial of sleeping tablets that he seemed to be staring at so intently.

"Get out of here," he said wearily, refusing to look at her as she closed the distance between them in barely a couple of strides.

"Coward's way out again, Ward? I guess I thought maybe this time you'd fight," she retorted bitterly, reaching out before Grant had a chance to respond. She snatched the pill bottle with an angry snarl, barely resisting the urge to fling it at his head.

"Don't pretend to give a damn, _Daisy_ ," he growled, "we both know I'm only here now because Coulson wants to feel self-righteous again. Locking me away in a box was kind of making him look bad."

Skye's hand reached out before she could think better of it, and she jerked Ward's chin around so he was forced to look at her. A myriad of emotions swirled through her as he finally met her eyes, and she found tears ebbing down his cheeks.

"You're here because I made that call, not Coulson," she said firmly, "you want a chance to redeem yourself? Here it is. I can help you. I can help you control your powers. But the rest is on you."

Ward laughed, although there was evidently no humour in the gesture.

"Yeah? And why the fuck would you give me a second chance, Skye? After everything I did, I... Maybe I deserve to be dead. You shouldn't have brought me back..." he shook his head mournfully, staring at the bottle of bourbon as if it held the solution to all of their problems.

"Well, don't beat yourself up about it. We thought we were killing the thing that crawled up your ass, we had no idea if you'd live or not, so..." she drew her lips into a tight line. Suddenly softening as she added, "But... I'm not sorry that we saved you."

Ward gulped, once more avoiding Skye's gaze and simply shaking his head. Weariness was evident in not only the dejected slump of his shoulders and the way his head bowed over the table, but also in the fading light in his eyes, which conveyed that there were very few traces of the old, assured Grant Ward left.

"I..." he began, clearing his throat when he found his voice emerging as a strangled squeak, "I close my eyes and I see it all again... The people it murdered, innocent people that weren't part of S.H.I.E.L.D. or Hydra ... and there was nothing I could do."

Wordlessly, Skye pulled up the adjacent chair, sinking down into it and leaning her elbows on the table, her thirst forgotten.

"I can hear it speaking, using my voice to condemn people to suffering or death or... Something worse," he continued, tears tripping his cheeks completely unchecked, "but the worst thing is, it sounds like my voice, and that makes me responsible."

"It wasn't you, Ward," Skye said firmly, finding the desire to reach out and enclose his hand in her own becoming near overwhelming. However, she didn't move, realising that he was lost in such a deep reverie that she would likely scare him away altogether with human contact.

"But it was," Grant countered, screwing his eyes tightly closed, his shoulders shaking, "my face, my hands, my body... It was inside of me, riding me, and there wasn't a damn thing I could do about it. I-I couldn't stop it because I wasn't strong enough."

"It wasn't about strength, this is some kind of ancient, funky, alien parasite we're talking about here," reasoned Skye, surprisingly finding sympathy welling up in her chest as she watched the man's latest breakdown unfold.

"You could have stopped it..." Ward retorted, raising his gaze suddenly and locking their eyes, allowing Skye to see the pain that swirled in his brown orbs; just how very broken he had become.

"You don't know that," Skye said, shaking her head dismissively as though the idea was ludicrous. Ward barely moved a fraction, his tears continuing to fall and splash on the front of the black t shirt he wore.

"I do," he hissed, insistence building in his voice, "you're good and pure and... Everything I have always wanted to be but never was. I am worse than evil, and I can't help thinking that is why that thing chose me. Because it knew what I'd done before, what I was capable of, and because it liked it... I was... I was desirable to it. It sensed what was inside of me and it knew what it could make me become."

This time Skye did not resist, and she reached out to place her hand over his, motivated by something she hoped was pity, despite the fact she knew otherwise. Seeing him so fractured had unleashed a strange sense of empathy and concern in the young woman, and she tried to dismiss the probing question in her mind, of just when she had stopped hating the Grant Ward who had broken her heart.

"But you did... You took back control, Ward. That's how we were able to help you. Something made you fight, something gave you the strength to override those desires."

Ward smiled sadly, staring at her hand as it rested atop of his.

"You," he said simply, "when it knew Malick could never get you on side, it wanted you dead. It was coming after you, and I... It was like it knew that I'd loved you. It took every memory, every moment, and it tormented me. I could never have let it hurt you, Skye. Not with my hands, I..."

Skye was silent for a moment, allowing the newly imparted information to sink in. She had never known what it was that motivated Ward to finally seize control of his body again, or what had prompted him to find them, and then beg for them to put him down.

"I'll help you get through this, Ward. I'll show you how to control your powers, how to live like we do. But I need you to want it. I need you to want to get better. And then at the end, you've got a choice..." He looked up at her with the faintest traces of hope beginning to burn in his eyes.

"I could use someone like you on my side," she saw the trace of disdain flash across his face, and she sighed resolutely, "I didn't say S.H.I.E.L.D. I said _I_ could use you. If you want to stick around, that is?"

Ward unscrewed the cap of the bottle and downed a hearty swig of the foul smelling alcohol.

"And what would Coulson have to say about that?" he challenged.

Skye shrugged, "My team, I call the shots. Besides, Coulson needs me way more than I need him now. He's... different. Something's changed in him and... I need to look out for myself and for my team. So, you wanna be part of it?"

"You're serious?" Ward inquired, scanning her face and searching for any kind of tell or hint that she was playing him.

"As a heart attack," she chuckled, trying to lighten the moment, "but... there's a condition. You have to get your ass back to therapy, and no more of this bullshit, okay?"

She wrenched the bottle away from him, intent on emptying it down the sink later, along with the sleeping tablets. She'd certainly have a word later on with Simmons as to just how Grant had managed to acquire them.

"Who knows, maybe one day you and I can be friends again?!"

Ward only stared at her, wanting so much to nod or smile his agreement, but finding either impossible. Instead, he curled his fingers around the hand she offered to him and gently squeezed. It was all the assurance Skye needed.

x-x-x

_**Present day...** _

It was with a heavy hearted sigh that Ward began to rouse the woman in his arms from slumber, trailing kisses up her shoulder until he reached her ear.

"Skye?" he whispered, sweeping his hand up and down her lower back in the hopes of waking her as gently as possible. Though many things had changed, Skye's appreciation for early mornings had not been one of them.

"Hmmm?" she stretched languidly against his body, practically purring in delight at the sensation of his warm, naked flesh against hers.

"It's almost 6 am," he stated, having watched the red digital numbers with rapt annoyance for more than half an hour as he revelled in the feel of holding her in his arms.

Skye lifted her head from his chest and opened her eyes sleepily, "You kicking me out?"

She grinned, stretching above him and arching her back like a cat. He winced as she purposefully pressed her centre against his crotch, and his fingers dug lightly into her sides to still her.

"You know I want nothing more than for you to stay," he replied, glancing at the clock, which seemed to be counting down the minutes with alarming speed. At their current rate, they risked being discovered, and he didn't want Skye to have to deal with the fall-out from that.

She smirked as she traced her fingertip down the centre of his lips, and she lowered her head before pressing her mouth wantonly against his, licking at his tongue until he groaned with desire and kissed her back with equal hunger.

Giggling at his sudden change of heart, Skye scooted further up his body, raking her fingers through his hair as he all but devoured her, and she felt a familiar tug of longing in the pit of her stomach. The sheet fell from around her back, and Ward wasted no time in lifting his head then pulling her closer so that he could wrap his eager lips around her nipple.

"Well, I can't leave now..." she panted, closing her eyes and crying out in pleasure as he lavished attention on her breasts, his hands cupping the full globes and leading each to his mouth in turn.

"Why's that?" he chuckled, sucking down hard and eliciting a whimper that went straight to his crotch and did little to quell his building erection.

Skye struggled to catch her breath as she leaned over him, her wrist trembling with the strain of taking her weight.

"Because..." she hissed, gasping suddenly as he seized her around the waist and she scrambled to sit up, her thighs either side of his torso. His eyes eagerly swept over her body, and he reached out to run a finger up and down her folds. She grinned as she watched him lick his finger, and she found herself about to almost combust with desire.

"Try not to be too loud," he smirked, leaving her time enough only to roll her eyes before he hoisted her up his chest so that her thighs hugged the sides of his face. Grasping at the wall to steady herself, she let out a mewl as his fingers slipped inside her, and as his tongue began to lap at her, she choked on a scream.

x-x-x

Casting a discreet glance down the hall, Skye slipped out of Ward's bedroom and groaned in annoyance as she felt fingers clasp her arm to draw her back in.

"Seriously, Grant..." she began, her words dying on her lips as he kissed her soundly. "I have to go. Everyone will be having breakfast. They'll notice if I'm not there."

Ward grinned, cocking his head as he pressed her back against the door and claimed her lips with another bruising kiss.

"I already ate," he quipped, laughing as Skye's cheeks flushed a deep shade of crimson and she narrowed her eyes at him.

"That was lame. So, so lame," she mocked, shaking her head to express her disapproval, yet when he ducked his head to kiss her, she reached out to loop her arms around his neck. Finally coming to his senses, Ward drew away from her lips and contented himself with holding her, caressing the curve of her cheekbone with the back of his hand.

"Okay, okay..." he assuaged, seemingly lost in thought as his thumb brushed her lips and she peered up at him with what he allowed himself to believe could be love. "I wish it was just you and me... a million miles away from here."

"Maybe one day," Skye smiled, leaning up on tiptoes and kissing him, although this time it was a decidedly more tender gesture. "I'll see you later, okay? Don't forget, I'm kicking your ass again at eleven. The training room's ours for an hour."

Ward narrowed his eyes and chuckled, " _Trying_ to kick my ass, you mean?"

"We'll see," she retorted, a wide smile blossoming on her face as she added, "eleven... don't be late, Rookie."

"I'll be there," he promised, dipping his head for one last kiss before she slipped out of his arms.

Opening the door once again, she kept her eyes locked on his until she slid around the frame, still smiling like an idiot at the parting wink he tossed in her direction. She closed the door with a quiet click, turning around in order to make her way towards the kitchen, where a group of curt, snarling colleagues awaited her.

She wasn't sure if it was down to Coulson and his apparent intent on becoming the next super villain, but relations between all the team had been frayed as of late. It was only Fitz that she knew she could still rely on to be his usual affable self.

Taking a steadying breath, she sauntered down the hall, oblivious to the stares of the man lingering only a few feet behind her.

Having been privy to the entire exchange between Skye and their once sworn enemy, Fitz ducked back around the corner of the corridor, his mind racing to make sense of the scene that he had happened upon.

Licking his lips nervously, Fitz ran his hand frantically through his hair, his eyes still wide.

_"Oh, Skye. What have you gotten yourself in to?!"_

x-x-x

Skye stirred her cereal around the bowl somewhat half-heartedly, a soft sigh escaping her lips as, from the corner of her eye, she watched Bobbi and Hunter glowering at her with poorly concealed irritation. No doubt they were still sore about the previous day's altercation, and whilst the old Skye might have rushed to smooth over the tensions, having hated anyone being at odds with her, the new Skye couldn't quite bring herself to care as much as she suspected she perhaps should.

Deciding to simply ignore the duo, who were whispering between themselves as they shared a bagel and a single mug of black coffee, Skye shot a glance at Simmons, who was seated at her elbow. The Biochemist pushed scrambled egg around her plate with a faraway look in her eyes and a frown that belayed both misery and weariness. Skye felt a pang of sympathy assail her but she resisted the urge to reach out and clasp her friend's hand as she once might have done, realising that now the gesture would not be appreciated. Simmons had been far more closed off and guarded since her return from Maveth, and although quite some time had now elapsed, Skye supposed that the horrors she had experienced there would scar her permanently. In that respect, she and Ward were a lot alike, but that was a summation that Skye wisely chose to keep to herself given the scientist's hatred of the man who had once almost cost her her life.

Fitz sat beside Simmons, also apparently lost in thought as he stared at the piece of toast in his hand with a troubled expression that Skye struggled to decipher. He had seemed oddly on edge when he had joined them for breakfast, and though it had been the physicist who supported Skye in her decision to try to help Ward, she couldn't help but wonder if perhaps he was second guessing his decision.

"Fitz? Everything okay?" Skye asked, shooting Simmons a brief yet genuine smile as the two women peered at the Scot expectantly. It seemed even Simmons could see far enough past her own issues to note that Fitz was clearly not himself that morning. Nodding his head with more enthusiasm than was necessary, he bit into his toast and feigned a smile as he chewed.

"Uh, yeah. Yep. Course. Why wouldn't it be?" glancing around the room he watched the small factions that had appeared in Coulson's team, neither sitting near nor interacting with each other, "aside from the stifling tension in the room and the fact everyone hates each other, then...uh. Yeah. Grand."

Not wholly convinced that it was purely the atmosphere in the room, which Skye had to admit had existed even before Ward joined the fold again, she narrowed her eyes and peered at Fitz with abject suspicion.

"Are you sure that's all it is? You seem... weird."

Jemma chewed slowly on a mouthful of eggs before reaching for her tea cup as she awaited a reply. Fitz laughed, jamming the remainder of his toast into his mouth with a forced smile appearing on his now crammed maw. He swallowed hard, and Skye felt a frown settle on her features as he all but squirmed under her gaze.

"So... Casual sex... friends with benefits... um..." he cleared his throat uncomfortably, "fuck buddies, if you will... what do you think... about... those things?"

Skye's mouth remained open in a confused 'o', and Simmons coughed heartily as the sip of tea she had just swallowed caused her to choke.

"I've been uh... Been reading Cosmo... Just... making conversation, you know..." he let out a weak, strangled little laugh, yet Skye continued to stare at him.

" _Fitz! What on earth?!_ " Jemma demanded, shock and obvious disdain tainting her tone.

"So, not a fan, then. Okay, good. Skye?" he cleared his throat again, a nervous habit that Skye didn't fail to pick up on.

Arching an eyebrow at Fitz, clearly baffled and horrified by his chosen topic of conversation, Skye shook her head.

"Not really my thing," she replied, her tone incredulous.

"Well, that's..." Fitz stammered, seeming to shake himself out of his stupour as he reached across the table and plucked another piece of toast from the rack, "lovely... Bloody lovely."

"Are you okay?" Skye demanded, pushing her bowl aside and settling her probing gaze on Fitz, who seemed to be doing his utmost to avoid her eyes, almost squirming in his seat as he ate.

The mouthful of toast he practically inhaled prevented him from responding, and he simply pointed to his lips as though that were as much of an explanation as was required. Skye continued to stare, prepared to wait patiently for him to offer up something more substantial than a mumble. However, her attention was immediately diverted as Coulson strode into the dining room, May following silently in his wake.

Simmons and Skye exchanged the briefest of glances, and the latter was somewhat surprised to note a shadow of something resembling alarm drifting over the scientist's face. Coulson cleared his throat, visibly straightening up as all eyes in the room fell upon him. Shoulders back, chest slightly puffed out, he smiled thinly at his team, his robotic hand twitching at his side just a little.

"Daisy, we've got a hostile I want you to pick up. I don't need to tell you that this has to fly under the radar of local law enforcement and the media. It's just a simple pick-up, there shouldn't be too much resistance, so... have one of your team ready to go with you. You leave in a half hour."

Skye blinked, still not accustomed to this new and wholly unlike-able version of Coulson who quite literally ruled over them with an iron fist - or a robotic one, at least.

"Uh, yes sir," she mumbled, poised to ask if they had any intel. on the supposed hostile when Coulson tossed a folder across the table and then turned to stride back out of the room.

"Great talk, D.C.," she grumbled.

"If you need a pilot, May's been fully briefed on the mission," he added, quickly disappearing out of the kitchen before Skye could respond, May once more following like a shadow.

Skye sighed through her irritation, certain at least that she did not want the infamous Cavalry to accompany her. May had seamlessly settled back into her role as Coulson's lap dog, intent on burying her emotions over her ill-fated reunion with her ex-husband. She had become as cold and closed off as ever, and Skye couldn't shake the sense that neither May nor the Director himself were to be trusted at present.

"I can be ready in five," Bobbi stated, about to stand from the table when Skye shook her head and offered her a smile that was meant to be genuine, but didn't quite reach her eyes.

"It's okay. Ward can go with me," Skye shot back, clutching the file in her hand as she made her way towards the exit, unaware that the man himself was loitering in the hall just out of view.

"You think that's wise?" Bobbi countered in disbelief, obviously deciding that she knew better on the subject. "Daisy, you need someone out there that you know will have your back."

"Yeah, I do," Skye agreed readily, "Ward won't let me down... I trust him."

Bobbi guffawed, and the sound made Skye's fist clench in anger. "You trust him? The guy who sold you all out to Hydra?"

"Ward would never let anything happen to Daisy."

All heads turned simultaneously towards Simmons, who picked disinterestedly at her breakfast, apparently unaware of or simply not caring that all eyes in the room were fixed upon her; perhaps none more confused than Skye herself.

Glancing up as she felt the combined weight of their stares, Simmons shrugged, "No matter what we all might think of Ward, he'd never allow anything bad to happen to her."

Skye shot her a grateful look, which the scientist received with a genuinely affectionate smile. Fitz too nodded somewhat unwillingly in agreement.

"Jemma's right," he added, deflecting the murderous glares that Bobbi, Hunter and Lincoln shot him with a shrug.

"You're all freakin' nuts," Bobbi scoffed as she threw her hands up in exasperation, then stood up in preparation to stride out of the room. She stepped back as she almost collided with Ward, immediately giving him a wide berth, which she sealed succinctly with a silent glare.

"Oh, speak of the devil... literally," Hunter drawled, "if it isn't tall, dark, and psychopathic."

Ward accepted the remark with merely a smirk, but his eyes searched out Jemma's and he nodded at her, hoping his brief yet heartfelt smile would be understood. Jemma hugged her hands around her cup and managed to allow a half smile of her own to settle on her lips.

Fitz didn't miss the look that passed between the two Inhumans when Ward took his ever present place beside his leader, but he elected for the time being to probe no further.

Slapping the file against Ward's chest with a mischievous grin, Skye strode out ahead of him to change into her tac. gear, a certain spring to her step.

"Suit up, Rookie. We're going to Colorado."


	3. Smoky Heaven Feeling On My Own, Lost Control

 

It felt strange and yet entirely right for Grant Ward to once again be at the controls of a S.H.I.E.L.D. quin jet. The fact that Skye was also at his side was just another unbelievable detail that he found himself floored by, but there she was, clad in her black tac. gear, long hair pulled into a side bun, and her gaze fixed on the horizon as she mulled over the mission ahead of them.

Grant allowed himself a moment to reflect on how beautiful she looked, before he too forced himself to focus on the task at hand and, perhaps more importantly, the details of the 'hostile' they had been ordered to retrieve.

"This doesn't feel right, Grant," Skye sighed, glancing at the rather short and brief synopsis they had been given of the woman they had been instructed to retrieve. "She's nineteen, she's just a kid."

Ward cocked his head, reaching out to flick various controls as he spoke quietly into the mouthpiece on his headset, relaying their location and ETA to their appointed contact; who, in this agonising instance, happened to be May.

Pulling the headset off with a grimace, Ward turned in his seat and regarded Skye with a curious glance. She seemed on edge and nervous, which was uncharacteristic these days.

"Coulson says she's dangerous," Ward said with a shrug, although his tone also indicated that he too had trouble believing the biography they had been handed.

"Since when did you start believing what Coulson says?" Skye countered, sighing as she reached out and captured his hand in hers. "I don't know, Ward, I just... This whole thing feels off, I can't explain it."

Ward remained silent, frowning as he continued to stare out of the windscreen and into the clouds. Usually, flying brought him a kind of clarity that few things could equal; the freedom of rising above everything, leaving it all beneath him both physically and mentally, was one that could not be replicated. However, no matter how long or hard he stared off into the horizon, he couldn't shake the nagging sensation in the pit of his own stomach; in his heart, he knew that Skye was right, and there was something decidedly wrong about their latest orders. Still, given his rather tenuous status with the team and S.H.I.E.L.D. in general, he knew that the most prudent action on his part would be to keep his mouth firmly shut.

"Coulson didn't even say how he found out about this girl," Skye continued, interrupting Ward's musings.

He switched the jet to autopilot before turning in his seat towards Skye, awarding her with his full attention.

"I guess maybe S.H.I.E.L.D.'s latest deal with the government could have something to do with it," he suggested, reaching out and resting a hand on Skye's knee as he watched indecision and discomfort flicker across her features. "Hey, it's okay. Neither one of us are going to hurt this girl. We're here to help."

"Do you really believe that, Ward?" Skye asked earnestly, leaning forwards and letting out a sigh as she covered his hand with her own.

He appeared to consider her question for a moment before carefully choosing his words.

"I know you, and I know you want to help her. I do, too. If you think something's wrong when we get there, then we go... to hell with Coulson and his orders. I'm loyal to you, nobody else."

Smiling his most dazzling smile, he attempted to lighten the moment, as he squeezed her hand, "Whatever you say goes, boss."

Skye consented to smile, placing her hand over the top of his so it was sandwiched between her own. She smoothed her fingertips over his skin and lifted her gaze to meet his almost shyly.

"I'm not your boss, Ward. Not any more."

"You cutting me loose?" he arched an eyebrow, still insecure in the attention and affection Skye bestowed upon him - none of which he felt deserving of. Skye snorted with laughter, rolling her eyes and slapping the back of his hand to emphasize just how ridiculous his question was.

"I was going to say that we're partners. Gees, so insecure," she teased good-naturedly, her smile growing as a blush coloured his cheeks.

She couldn't know just how accurate her appraisal had been, though, and Ward glanced almost shyly away as he explained, "This doesn't feel real; you and me, and being back with the team."

Shifting in her seat so her body was turned in his direction, Skye slipped her hands free and reached up to cup his face.

"Grant, look at me..." she directed, "this is real. At least, everything that's between you and I is real. I have no idea what Coulson's up to half the time, and maybe I don't want to."

She grinned as she added, "You think I'd sleep with a guy just so Coulson can act out some crazy revenge plan? And... think carefully before you answer that."

"Well, you slept with Lincoln, so I guess anything's possible," Ward retorted, chuckling as Skye moved to punch him in the arm in retaliation. He caught her fist with relative ease and used the momentum of her swing to pull her into his lap. Skye came willingly enough, although she pouted at him as she settled across his knee, refusing to let his jibe go unpunished.

"I'm kidding," Grant assured her, pausing to brush a kiss against her forehead. He chuckled as he added, " _Mostly_."

With a dramatic roll of her eyes, Skye leaned back against Ward and encircled her arms around his neck. He returned her embrace instinctively, resting his chin on the crown of her head as she tucked herself away against his chest and then drew her knees upwards, making herself as small as possible.

Skye closed her eyes, taking a moment to calm and centre herself as she relaxed into his embrace. His presence was comforting and she inclined her body further in to his as her need for him intensified.

"Simmons was right, you know," he said softly, peering down at her in earnest, and he brushed his knuckles across her cheek when she appeared confused.

"Uh... that cassette tapes should make a come-back?" she quipped. Ward laughed, shaking his head as he realised yet again just how much he had missed her and, ultimately, how much she had come to mean to him.

"No," he said huskily, feeling a familiar flutter in his chest as she sought his touch, "I will never let anything hurt you, Skye."

"I know," she replied, the conviction in his words bringing a lump to her throat, "and... right back at'cha."

She sought out his lips, ignoring the alarm sounding from the controls that informed them they were poised to reach their destination, and they allowed themselves a few minutes to simply be lost in each other.

Sliding down from his knee, Skye took her seat again and clipped in her belt, the smile she sent him loaded with promise and affection.

"Good thing we're both kick-ass super spies then, huh?!"

Flicking off the autopilot, she watched Ward chuckle as he took back control of the small aircraft, yet despite the momentary joy that lifted her spirits, Skye couldn't shift that nagging feeling that something was about to go very, very wrong.

x-x-x

They stood in the parking lot of the motel, gazes sweeping the perimetre in a guarded fashion, and their weapons concealed in easy reach in the holsters they wore around their thighs. Skye could feel her powers thrumming beneath the surface of her skin, boosted by the adrenaline beginning to course through her system. By her side, Ward was the picture of perfectly calm and collected; a far cry from just over a handful of months previous when even the sound of the smoke alarm had been enough to send him over the edge into panic.

"What's the plan, Quake?" Ward inquired in a low tone, a wispy smile floating across his lips at the use of her recently bestowed codename. He had to admit that it fitted her personality perfectly - hinting at just the right amounts of chaos, strength and destruction.

"Let's try to keep this friendly," Skye replied, her tone growing more curt as her focus kicked in. "I go first, you watch my six. Absolutely no powers unless we have no other option. There are civilians everywhere and we can't risk their safety, or prying eyes."

Ward nodded in agreement, his eyes scanning the individual cabins of the distinctly retro motel for any trace of occupancy.

"And how do we know she's here?" he checked, frowning as each ramshackle hut appeared devoid of life.

"Motel manager called it in. He recognised her from the APB put out on local news," Skye replied, glancing up as she realised Ward had spotted something of interest.

"This place has a manager?" He smirked in evident surprise, finding it hard to believe that any living being had so much as swept a floor for the good part of a decade at least.

"Cabin 9," he nodded towards the small building in question, where a faint glimmer of light sporadically reflected through the glass, signalling that someone was inside - he suspected, holding aloft a cell phone.

"Okay, let's do this," Skye said uneasily, suddenly halting in her tracks, "wait... whether she's a hostile or not, this girl's powers are pretty deadly and my guess is she has no idea how to control them. So, don't take any chances, _Hellfire_."

If he would insist on calling her 'Quake', two could play at that game.

Ward drew his lips into a tight line and sighed a huff of disapproval at the codename he had somehow been awarded. Yet it seemed strangely fitting given the nature of his powers, and his phoenix like rise from the ashes.

"Copy that," he grumbled, and Skye flashed him a winning smile as she strode ahead, her eyes focused on the door of the room. The parking lot was fairly devoid of signs of life, but Ward walked backwards nonetheless as he trailed Skye, determined to follow his orders and ensure that there would be no unwanted surprises.

"Here goes," Skye muttered, closing her eyes momentarily as she steeled herself against the rising tide of unease swelling inside her chest. Her right hand shot out and she directed a jolt of power at the door handle, which blasted the metal clean off, leaving a hole in the wood where the lock had once resided. She nudged open the door with her shoulder, having decided that it was perhaps best to exercise a degree of restraint to prevent from provoking their hostile.

"Molly Hayes?" Skye called out, stepping into the dim room and revealing herself to its occupant. "I'm Agent Johnson, this is Agent Ward. We're here to help you. I need you to come out for me, nice and slow, hands where I can see them."

Walking into the darkness side by side, Skye and Ward squinted as they waited for their eyes to adjust. When Skye received no response to her greeting, she glanced at Ward, who was standing perfectly still, tuning out the world outside the doorway and focusing his senses on their immediate surroundings. It was a skill he had honed as a Specialist, and one that had invariably become more acute now he himself was an Inhuman. Pressing his finger to his lips, Ward gestured towards the bed, and Skye nodded in agreement as the sound of gentle sniffles caught her ear.

"We're not here to hurt you, Molly. All we want to do is help you," Ward added, counting down from three to one on his fingers and stepping back so Skye could lift the bed using her powers.

But as Skye raised her hand to comply, a furious scream of rage and fear echoed from under the bed, and the frame and mattress was sent hurtling towards the two S.H.I.E.L.D. agents. Ward threw himself sideways at Skye, knocking her down and out of the way of the missile, which she then deftly threw out of their path with a wave of her outstretched palm.

Molly ran for the door, and this time it was Ward who reacted, his hand shooting out and immediately creating a wall of flames that effectively blocked her path. The girl's eyes grew wide as she surveyed the couple, and as they clambered to their feet she stared at them in evident wonderment.

"You're like me," she choked out, her eyes still darting around the room, as she audibly panted and desperately searched out a route of escape.

"Yes, and we can help you," Skye replied, striving to inject sincerity and a degree of softness to her tone as she drank in the look of utter terror that dominated the young girl's face. Her mousy brown hair hung limply around her shoulders, which were slumped forwards, and Skye was struck by just how tiny and petite she actually was. At a casual first glance, nobody could possibly suspect that Molly Hayes wielded such mammoth strength, which could possibly rival that of the Hulk himself.

"I don't believe you!" Molly shot back, her arms immediately encircling her own body as she took a few hesitant and clumsy steps backwards. "That's what they said, and now Chase is gone... You can go to hell..."

Skye held up her hands defensively and took a step towards the young girl, her interest rising. "Chase?"

Molly nodded, wiping at her cheeks with a trembling hand as she hugged her other arm tightly around her abdomen and took a step back.

"You and I? We're the same," Skye widened her eyes to emphasize her point, "all I want to do is help you. We're from S.H.I.E.L.D., we're the good guys. We're not here to hurt you. I can help you control your powers, Molly."

"Nobody can help me," Molly sobbed, her face contorted with such sorrow that Skye felt a sharp pang of sympathy. "They took Chase. What am I going to do without him?!"

"That your boyfriend? Friend?" Ward fished, mirroring Skye's stance, his hands held up in front of his body to show he was no imminent threat.

"My boyfriend," Molly appeared to cry even harder at the mere mention of his name. "They came for us, a man and woman... dressed in black, like you two... Telling us they weren't going to hurt us... just like you. Why should I believe a word you say?"

"What happened to Chase, Molly?" Skye coached, finding a rickety old chair and lowering herself somewhat uneasily into it.

"They took him," Molly's face crumpled as she wept, "he held them off as long as he could... I haven't seen him in eight days. What if he's dead? What if..."

She covered her eyes with her hand, visibly shaking with the force of her sobs.

"He let them take him so you could escape..." Ward guessed; it was, after all, what he would have done in the same situation.

Molly nodded, "We have to keep the baby safe from them."

Skye frowned, realisation suddenly dawning as she queried, "You're pregnant?"

She exchanged a pointed glance with Ward, who also appeared to be mulling over the news with a mounting sense of suspicion regarding their supposed hostile.

Molly nodded miserably, "It wasn't planned, but we want to keep it. I went for my first scan last week. The doctor started talking about my blood work, said there was something strange in the results..."

"Inhuman DNA," Skye said quietly, "the baby's 100% Inhuman."

Molly sniffled, "And then they started coming for us. We noticed people were watching us, men in suits... They were everywhere. The grocery store, the laundromat... even at my doctor's office. Then the soldiers came for us, and... and..."

She began to weep again, this time not resisting when Skye gingerly crossed the room and opened out her arms.

Impulsively, Molly fastened her arms around Skye, clinging to the slightly older woman as though she had become her lifeline. Sobs racked her and Skye rubbed circles across her back in a bid to calm her.

"Shhh, it's going to be okay," she murmured, shooting a glance at Ward, who closed the bedroom door in order to afford them some privacy.

"Molly, we understand how scared you must be," Ward said softly, holding out both hands in a placating gesture as he approached the two women, and noted how Molly immediately shrank into Skye, as though she sensed somehow that the woman could offer her some form of protection.

"You ever been hunted?" Molly spat, venom in her tone as she continued to sniffle. Ward's smile was haunted, and so completely stripped bare that the girl was visibly taken aback.

"You'd be surprised," he replied, deciding to take up residence in the chair that Skye had vacated. He settled back against the worn wood, his hands resting in his lap where Molly could see them.

"I know this is a lot to ask," Skye continued, cupping Molly's cheeks with her hands and inclining the girl's face towards her own, "I know you're scared, and you have no idea who in the hell we are, but you're one of my people, and a little while ago I made a promise; to protect and help others like me, just like my mother did before me, and her mother before her."

"You're like a princess?" Molly inquired, cocking her head, her blue eyes sweeping Skye's face with interest. "Should I like... curtsey or something?"

Skye laughed, catching the vaguely amused glance Ward levelled in her direction.

"Kind of... I guess," she chuckled, a blush settling on her cheeks. She added hurriedly, "But don't curtsey."

"Holy shit," Molly muttered, suddenly finding herself somewhat less afraid. There was something about the woman's presence that soothed her, and she'd found herself listening to her feelings a lot lately.

"So... will you let us help you?" Skye asked, craning her neck so that Molly was forced to hold her gaze. Molly considered the question, swallowing hard as she absently allowed her hand to flutter to her stomach.

She stared at Skye thoughtfully, "I can feel your power... it's like it hums, like I can feel it through my body. I've never been able to feel that before."

"Maybe that's someone else's power you can feel?" Skye suggested, smiling as she placed her hand atop of Molly's and directed her gaze to the girl's stomach. Molly laughed, a curious expression of joy settling on her face, even as the tears continued to ebb steadily down her cheeks.

"I think it's a boy. I don't know why, I just... I think it is."

Shrugging as if to express her lack of knowledge on the subject, Skye indulged her with a warm smile, "Moms know best, or... so I hear."

Ward watched the interaction with just the barest of smiles playing across his lips, simultaneously sorry for the young girl before him whose world had been shattered, and yet proud of the woman who promised to help her rebuild it.

"So now what?" Molly inquired, swiping at her cheeks in order to remove all traces of the tears that had overwhelmed her. "Will you guys help me find Chase? I'm so worried about him."

"We will," Skye admonished, her hand resting gently in the small of the teen's back, "but first I'd like to take you back to our base. You need a thorough check up, a decent meal, and some rest. I can straighten a few things out with my superiors, and then we can work on finding where this illusive baby daddy of yours got to."

Molly giggled, clearing finding some sort of kinship in Skye and her somewhat off the wall humour.

"Molly," Ward interjected softly, almost hesitant to broach the subject, "do you have any idea why our organisation was under the impression that you might have been hostile?"

Molly shook her head firmly, "My powers are under control, sir. I'd never hurt anybody. All Chase and I want is a normal life... it's all we want for our baby. When they came to take us? You bet your ass... ughh, I mean... Sure, I used my powers. But that's honestly like the first time I've ever done that. Sure, the pregnancy has made me feel a little funky, but... I've never hurt anybody. I wouldn't!"

She glanced up with wide and obviously sincere eyes at Ward, who nodded and reached out to place a hand on her shoulder. Turning to regard Skye, Ward shot her a pointed look that indicated he wanted to talk to her in private.

"Molly, pack up your things, and we'll get out of here, okay?" he instructed before gesturing over towards the window, where he led Skye out of the girl's range of hearing. He sighed, folding his arms across his chest as he stared down at his girlfriend.

"We can't hand her over to S.H.I.E.L.D. This isn't right."

Skye shook her head, as though not understanding. "You don't think it was S.H.I.E.L.D. who were after her?"

"S.H.I.E.L.D., Hydra, does it really matter? All we know is, some faceless suits and a couple of Specialists have kidnapped one person already. You were right before, something's going on here."

"Grant, I know you and Coulson aren't ever going to be on the best of terms, but I really don't think the guy's got some sinister intention here. Sure, there's been some confusion about her story, but we'll get to the bottom of it at the Playground, and I'll ask Simmons to check her over, make sure no harm has been done. Okay?"

Knowing it was Skye's call to make, Ward's jaw set and he heaved another irritated, clearly dissatisfied sigh.

"It doesn't feel right, Skye, handing over a young girl... a _young_ , _pregnant_ _girl_..." he repeated for emphasis, not missing the amused and obviously sentimental smile that pulled at Skye's lips.

"We'll make sure she's okay, Ward. We can't leave her here, anybody could find her - people with intentions way different than ours. That kid she's carrying? He or she is gonna be pretty damn powerful. We can't leave her here, it's not safe."

Ward's expression remained unchanged, and he cast a fleeting glance over toward their young charge before nodding in obvious reluctance.

"Fine. But we don't let her out of our sight."

"Agreed," Skye murmured, leaning up and pressing a kiss to his cheek. Ward finally consented to smile, bestowing a somewhat quizzical gaze upon her which demanded she explain the gesture.

Caressing his jaw with her fingertips, she inclined her body towards his and whispered in his ear, "For being a nice guy."

Ward barely managed a responding smile, but he refrained from commenting, unable to ignore the niggling doubt worrying his gut. However, Skye's orders were clear and he knew that she would never allow any harm to befall the girl in their care, so he swallowed down his protests and helped Molly to begin gathering her belongings. Since it transpired that both she and Chase were care system runaways, the task took barely five minutes to accomplish, and then Molly was clinging on to Skye's arm like she believed her to be the second coming leading her to salvation.

Ward's doubts lingered, even as they boarded the quin jet and ascended into the clouds. He could only hope that his instincts were rusty from disuse; still recovering from the alien presence that had dominated him for so many months.

And, if they weren't, then Grant supposed they would find out soon enough.


	4. Just Some Teenage Kids Before

 

Hours later, Molly had been brought back to the safety of the Playground and ushered immediately into the care of Simmons, with a rather overprotective Skye and Ward hovering over her still.

Smiling at her new patient, Jemma wheeled the portable ultrasound machine to the side of the bed the young girl lay upon, hands folded across her chest. Skye stood at her side, offering her own encouragement as the S.H.I.E.L.D. scientist worked to complete her physical evaluation.

"Can you just pop your shirt up? That's right, and maybe pull the down the waistband of your jeans a little... perfect," Jemma enthused, wielding the ultrasound wand in one hand as she searched around the work station for the gel.

"I'll uh..." Ward gestured towards the door, having taken up residence leaning against the cabinets as Jemma had checked the girl's vital signs and established her general level of health. However, this next step in the process seemed perhaps a little too intimate for his own personal comfort levels, so Ward made his way to the door of the med. bay, hands jammed in his pockets.

Molly lifted her head from the pillow and reached out towards him with one hand, "No, it's okay. You can stay... Don't... Don't go anywhere, please?!"

Ward seemed mildly shell-shocked by the plea, looking to first Jemma and then Skye for approval. When both women shrugged and smiled in evident amusement, Ward shrank back and took his place at Skye's side.

"Okay," he appeased the young Inhuman, ignoring the mirth that his fellow S.H.I.E.L.D. agents found in his discomfort.

Offering an apologetic wince, Jemma hoisted aloft the bottle of gel as she explained, "This is going to be a tad cold, sorry!"

"That's okay," Molly replied, impatient to see the image of her child on the screen beside them.

Jemma busied herself with moving the probe around the girl's abdomen, her eyes suddenly lighting up as she declared happily, "Ah, there we are. There's baby!"

Molly chewed on her bottom lip, evidently nervous, and Skye reached out to clasp her hand in a gesture of reassurance.

"Is... Does... I mean, is it okay?" Molly stammered, craning her neck at an obviously painful angle in order to get a good look at the screen, and the grainy grey image that dominated it.

"Well, I'm no sonographer but, from my limited experience, everything looks wonderful," Jemma said, gently moving the wand to one side as the image of the fetus on the screen suddenly shifted. "There's the head, legs over here, and that little flickering line there is the heart. Would you like to hear baby's heartbeat?"

Hesitantly, Molly glanced at Skye, her eyes clouding with tears. Skye gripped her hand tighter, squeezing her fingers to offer her encouragement.

"Chase should be here. He should be seeing this too," she whispered, heaving such a heavy sigh that Skye touched her free hand to the girl's forehead and tenderly brushed aside a wisp of stray hair.

"Here," Simmons said quietly, not waiting for a response from her patient before she reached for the machine and turned a dial. Immediately, the room was filled with a loud, insistent and rapid shushing sound, and Molly gasped out loud, her eyes suddenly bright and alive with delight.

Ward stood in an almost comical pose, his arms folded across his chest and his head cocked to one side as he struggled to decipher the image on the screen. Yet as the strange pulsing sound echoed in his ears, he found himself strangely captivated by it all.

"Pretty cool, huh?!" Daisy chuckled, nudging him playfully with her elbow, and the affectionate look that passed between them caused Jemma to examine the pair under slightly more scrutiny.

Although she knew Daisy and Ward had somehow managed to become friends over the previous months, she had never suspected it could be anything more. Suddenly, she wasn't quite so sure, and even her young patient seemed to have noticed as she too peered between the agents with a smile of understanding blossoming on her lips.

"So..." she fished with a smirk as she gestured to the ultrasound machine, "you think this might be you guys one day? Your kid would be like a total bad-ass."

Skye blinked, her smile instantly vanishing as she hooked her thumb in Ward's direction and shook her head. Unfortunately, she found that her mind was working faster than her mouth would allow.

"Oh... Hey... We're not... I mean... We're..." she babbled incoherently, glancing at Ward, stricken, for assistance.

"Friends," Ward helpfully added, clearing his throat as he noted the narrow eyed, dubious look Jemma settled upon them. As she turned off the machine and began to dab the gel from Molly's skin, she kept her eyes trained on Skye's face, and the guilty expression that tugged at her features.

"Really?" Molly pressed with a frown, "huh. I could have sworn you guys were a thing. You just... I just thought you were together. You've got like crazy chemistry."

The girl winced as she realised how inappropriate her comments might have been, and she added in a rush, "Sorry. My bad. I hope I didn't say anything out of line."

"It's fine," Skye interjected, shaking her head and forcing a grin that erupted so suddenly upon her lips that it couldn't possibly have been genuine. "Food, let's get you some food. I bet you must be starving, right?"

Molly nodded, offering Simmons a grateful smile as the scientist extended a hand and helped the girl to sit up on the table.

"Excellent idea," Simmons replied, her tone brightening as she returned her attention fully to the young woman, "I have some vitamins for you to take away, and I am sure you already are aware of the importance of eating a well balanced diet and staying properly hydrated."

"Thanks, doc," Molly said, hesitating for a moment before shrugging and then quickly embracing the scientist.

"Oh, well..." Simmons stammered, chuckling as Molly withdrew from her arms and returned to Skye's side.

Molly walked slowly down the hallway of the S.H.I.E.L.D. installation, Ward at one elbow, Skye at the other. She felt a little like she was under arrest, but then they also made her feel safe, for perhaps the first time in weeks. Hesitating momentarily, the girl glanced up at Skye from behind a fan of thick lases and she winced by way of apology.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said anything back there, I just... I honestly thought you guys were a couple. I'm so sorry."

Skye drew to a halt, as did Ward, and they exchanged a fleeting smile before he shrugged in answer to her silent question.

"It's okay," Skye whispered, casting a careful eye over the vicinity to make sure nobody could hear her. "We are... it's just... nobody knows yet."

Molly slapped her hand over her mouth, immediately looking mortified by her blunder.

"Oh my God! Me and my big mouth. I'm so sorry," she hissed her apology, looking crestfallen at her indiscretion.

Ward shook his head, gesturing for her to step into the lounge, "Don't worry about it, you couldn't have known. It's just... it's complicated."

He shrugged and offered her a smile, "They'll all have to find out sooner or later, right?!"

He lingered in the doorway and reached out blindly to trace his fingertips down the edge of Skye's hand. She glanced up at him in response then clutched his hand in hers for just a moment. Whilst keeping their relationship hidden from their friends and colleagues was proving a more difficult task as each day went by, Ward knew that the secrecy was warranted, and he didn't doubt that there would be very real repercussions for them both if Coulson were to discover that they had crossed the line that S.H.I.E.L.D. expressly forbade.

The two Inhumans practically leapt apart when the sound of someone clearing their throat from behind them pierced the quiet that had descended. Molly hid a giggle behind the back of her hand as Skye and Ward both clasped their hands behind their backs simultaneously and did their best to look anywhere but at each other.

"Daisy... Ward..." Fitz greeted levelly, his eyes sweeping the two agents as he passed by.

"Fitz, just the guy I was hoping to see," Skye said brightly as she planted a hand in the centre of Molly's back and guided her forwards. The girl exchanged a nervous look with Fitz, who offered her his hand immediately to shake.

"Leo Fitz," he stated, his eyes twinkling as he added, "but my friends call me Fitz, and I expect you to do the same. You must be the infamous Molly I've heard so much about."

The girl nodded, a shy smile growing slowly on her lips as she appraised the man before her, whose accent she couldn't quite place, but who possessed such an air of warm kindness that she couldn't possibly feel wary in his company for a second longer.

"Do you think you could fix Molly a snack?" Skye inquired, directing a glance at Ward as she explained, "we have a mission debrief with Coulson, and there's a few things we need to straighten out."

Herding her towards the kitchen, Fitz babbled happily about the menu choices on offer, rattling off the contents of the refrigerator as he ushered the girl into a seat at the breakfast table. Skye watched him with faint amusement, appreciative of the efforts both he and Simmons had made in regards to the young girl. It was starting to feel distinctly like they were the only human allies she could really trust.

x-x-x

Ward sat motionless, his hands folded in his lap as he regarded the director with a curiously blank expression set on his features. Since his return to the team, most had noticed how Coulson found it difficult to look the younger man in the eye, and they had assumed this was from an arguably misplaced sense of guilt regarding his actions on Maveth. However, Skye suspected the truth was far simpler; Coulson's aversion to looking at the former Specialist was due to nothing but hatred, and when he did consent to speak to Grant, his tone was curt and continually irritated, as if Ward's presence was a unpalatable by-product of having defeated Hive.

Skye sat beside Ward, her legs crossed and her fingers knotted together in her lap. She eyed her boss uneasily, wondering where the humour and kindness that had once made her love him like a father had disappeared to. The man before her was cold, distant, and unfeeling, and she couldn't shake the sense of late that she and the director were fixed on very different agendas.

"You picked up the girl. Good," Coulson nodded, casting a brief glance at Skye as she pursed her lips and stared at him across his desk.

"Yeah, but I don't get why, D.C. She's not hostile, the poor thing's scared out of her mind... she wouldn't hurt anyone. So... what gives? Why did you really send us?"

Coulson scowled, leaning back in his seat and folding his hands atop the piles of papers littering his desk.

"I don't like your tone, Daisy," he started, shooting a glare at Ward seemingly for good measure, "Molly Hayes' case was passed over to us by the F.B.I. She attacked several agents who tried to apprehend her a few days ago. One of them is still in the hospital. Her powers are highly volatile and President Ellis personally requested that S.H.I.E.L.D. put our best agents on this. That's what I thought I'd done."

"Her powers are volatile?" Skye repeated, shaking her head in poorly disguised disgust. "She's crazy strong, D.C., she doesn't shoot laser beams from her ass."

Coulson visibly bristled, "Are you questioning my orders, Agent Johnson?"

Skye shrugged, pulling her mouth into a tight line as she pulled forward in her seat and regarded him, "No, sir. I'm not questioning your orders. I'm questioning your bullshit."

Ward slowly inched himself higher in his seat, his body prone to respond as he watched anger momentarily flash across the director's features. Daisy appeared unmoved by his brimming rage, and her own expression conveyed only her exasperation.

"Do you want to face disciplinary action, Skye? Is that what you want?" Coulson began, wondering if utilising her old moniker would prove to be a more worthwhile tactic. "Or is it Ward who's brought about this change in you? Perhaps letting him work with you again wasn't a good idea."

Skye laughed openly, and Coulson frowned in response, having expected a somewhat different reaction.

"Whatever, D.C. Just... tell me the truth. _Please_!"

Huffing out a sigh that was intended to convey his weariness, Coulson shrugged as he answered, "I promise you, that's all I know. The Feds tried to pick her up this week, there was a fight, one of them is in critical care right now. I'm not saying she's a bad kid. Who knows, maybe the pregnancy's a factor, but we can't just turn her back out into society without proper training or monitoring. Now... is that all, Agent Johnson?"

Ward stared thoughtfully at the older man, taking note of every movement, every slight hitch in intonation, every gesture that once again reinforced his suspicions. As a Specialist, Grant had been trained to read people - he was a master of espionage, after all - and with every fibre of his being, he knew that Coulson was lying to them. To what ends, however, he was completely oblivious.

Skye blinked as she digested Coulson's explanation, something akin to suspicion suddenly washing over the composed mask she had worn.

"Wait, how did you..." Skye began, glancing to her side as Ward cleared his throat loudly and insistently. Taking the hint, Skye shook her head as she added, "You know what, sir, nevermind... it's nothing."

"Are we good then?" Coulson glanced between the two agents, although his eyes settled on Skye a fraction longer than she was suddenly comfortable with. He appeared seemingly satisfied though when she bobbed her head in agreement. "Excellent. Now, if you don't mind, I have some work to attend to."

Skye climbed to her feet, doing her best to keep everything locked down tight as Coulson watched her intently, offering up a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.

"Mission report on my desk by this evening, Agent Johnson," he declared, pleasantly enough, although Skye couldn't help but sense the irritation prickling beneath the surface of the man's perfect composure.

"Sure thing, D.C.," she muttered, striding towards the door and stopping abruptly as Lincoln slipped inside the office clutching a tablet to his chest, clearly having been unaware that a debrief was taking place.

"Oh, I could..." Lincoln began, hooking a thumb in the direction of the still open door. Coulson shook his head, beckoning the other agent closer to the desk with a wave of his hand and a smile.

"We were just finishing up," he stated, reaching out a hand for the tablet Lincoln held in a vice like grip as his blue eyes wandered to Ward and narrowed in a display of vehement dislike.

"Agent Campbell, I trust those our the documents I asked for?" Coulson pressed, waggling his fingers impatiently in order to snap Lincoln out of his apparent trance.

Obviously taking great enjoyment from the silent altercation, Ward let out a puff of laughter before an insidiously smug smirk settled on his lips, and he raised his eyebrows at the blonde haired Inhuman, as though daring him to respond in kind. Lincoln glared at him momentarily before turning his gaze to the i-pad in his hand. Skye intercepted his goading expression and slapped Ward gently on the arm, disapproval radiating from her every pore.

Coulson took in the details on the screen offered to him with a curt nod, and peered up at Lincoln with a decisive set to his features.

"Alright. You know what to do," he remarked, and Skye found herself fighting off an inexplicable shudder as she watched Coulson's lips twitch at the corners.

"Yes, sir," Lincoln agreed, taking back the i-pad and striding towards the doorway. He veered off path somewhat as he made his exit, his shoulder bumping Ward hard and quite deliberately. Ward gritted his teeth, his eyes boring into Lincoln, who stood in front of him as though he were throwing down the gauntlet.

Leaning closer, Ward snarled, "You better watch yourself, Sparky."

"Grant.." Skye called out, tugging on his sleeve. She had borne witness to Lincoln's uncharacteristically brave and provocative behaviour, but she was acutely aware that any action on Ward's part would be indefensible to Coulson. Shooting an infuriated glare at Lincoln, Skye propelled her boyfriend towards the hallway, ensuring that the former could hear her as she spat, "He's not worth it, Ward."

Lincoln's eyes were on her suddenly, but instead of seeing the wounded look of hurt she had expected there, Skye instead found only disdain levelled at her. She straightened up immediately, tilting her chin as she glared at Lincoln, who was technically still under her jurisdiction as the leader of the Inhumans whether he liked it or not.

"That's rich, coming from you," Lincoln muttered, finally averting his gaze as Skye arched an eyebrow at him, annoyance sparking within her.

"Something to say, Agent Campbell?" Skye demanded, crossing her arms over her chest and glaring at Lincoln, who rolled his eyes in response before a smirk settled upon his lips.

Lincoln watched with feigned disinterest as Ward's hand fluttered in the small of Skye's back, and within moments he broke down into laughter, shaking his head as the pieces slotted into place.

"Gonna sleep your way across the base, Daisy, or is it just an Inhuman thing?" he challenged, "you get off sleeping with guys with powers? That it?"

Pressed her palm into the centre of Ward's chest to hold him back, Skye regarded Lincoln with evident amusement.

"With you? Not once," she countered, glancing towards Coulson's open doorway to check he was out of ear-shot, "and if I find out you're into something in any way hinkey, I won't hold him back next time."

She gestured to Ward, who glared at Lincoln as if he were envisioning that long desired encounter with significant relish.

Lincoln looked back at her as if not phased by words he clearly deemed to be empty, "That a threat?"

This time it was Ward who stepped forwards and, as he stood menacingly in front of the other agent, Lincoln took a step back.

His eyes alive with venom, Ward whispered, "Yeah. It is."

Lincoln held his gaze, whether out of pure bravado or a false sense of security in his own abilities against Grant, Skye couldn't tell. However, after several more seconds of tense and heavy silence, she slipped her arm through Ward's and began to tug him back down the corridor.

"Come on, we should get back to Molly," she insisted, tearing her eyes away from Lincoln's face and the surprising measure of anger she found there.

Although things had ended quickly between she and the other Inhuman, Skye knew that his pride had been dealt a blow. Her relationship with Lincoln had been over a long time before one with Grant had tentatively begun, but clearly he had figured out their relationship status and was taking it as a personal slight, and perhaps even the reason for Skye having declared that things between them could never become what Lincoln had hoped.

"That guy is walking a fine line," Ward growled as he followed Skye down the corridor, his back and shoulders still tense from the encounter.

"Ward, we've had this talk," Skye sighed, wearily rubbing at her forehead with one hand as she walked, "tread carefully with Lincoln... Please. I can only protect you so much, and S.H.I.E.L.D. are just waiting for you to give them an excuse."

Releasing a pained sigh, Ward nodded despite the overwhelming urge he felt to rearrange Campbell's smug face. But if he had to play the game and rein in his temper, he would. Being with Skye and redeeming himself in her eyes was more important, and despite the fact she needed nobody's protection, he couldn't help his desire to watch over her.

"I don't want to do this without you," she said softly, smiling as he reached for her hand and drew it up to his lips.

"You won't," he promised, bending his head to facilitate the kiss she hurriedly initiated. Skye stood on tip toes, her cheek brushing his, and they remained locked in an embrace that each of them so desperately needed to draw comfort from. His warm breath drifted across her lips, and she closed her eyes as his fingertips tangled in her hair, holding her to him whilst he kissed first her cheek and then her lips once again.

"Stay with me tonight," he breathed, mirroring the grin she offered in response.

"First, we need to make sure Molly's safe," Skye instructed, beginning to stride down the hall at his side as they made their way back to the lounge. She didn't want to alarm the girl, but something told her that a S.H.I.E.L.D. base was not the safest location for her to hide if she was hoping to stay under government radar.

"You got somewhere she can lay low?" Skye asked, knowing already that Ward had a long list of safe houses he'd accumulated during his time as a spy - a handful not even known to the organisations he'd worked for.

Grinning somewhat smugly, Ward replied, "I'm sure I can dig something up for her."

Skye returned his grin, although it faded almost immediately as she rounded the corner into the lounge and happened upon Fitz clearing up two barely touched plates of pasta, very much alone. He glanced up as Skye and Ward entered, offering them both a nod by way of greeting.

"Where's Molly?" Skye blurted out, her head whipping around as she searched out the Inhuman. Inexplicably, her heart picked up its pace beneath her ribcage and her mouth felt suddenly as dry as the desert.

"Oh, uhm, Bobbi came by to escort her to a safe house," Fitz explained, busily attempting to balance one plate on top of the other in order to transport them over to the sink. "Barely had a chance to touch her lunch. I wanted to make her a doggy bag but Morse said they were in a hurry."

Skye listened to Fitz's explanation with a mounting sense of dread that she found herself at a loss to explain, but a quick look in Ward's direction told her that he was grappling with similar feelings of worry.

"Poor thing didn't look at all well. There we were, having a good old chat, getting on like a house on fire, and then Bobbi comes in... winning personality, as always... and the wee girl looked like she was going to throw up. Barely got a chance to say goodbye. I turned around to get the Parmesan cheese and _poof_... they were gone." Fitz relayed his story with obvious irritation, "I mean, I went to the trouble of cooking and all, least she could have done was let her eat!"

"Bobbi took her?" Skye demanded, her mind reeling with a thousand equally sickening possibilities. Exchanging a dark glance with Ward, Skye ran her hands through her hair, appearing momentarily floored by the information. It all began to make sense, but there was a part of her still so desperately trying to refute the implications of what she had learned; a part that still needed to believe that S.H.I.E.L.D. was the flicker of light in the darkness.

"The two 'soldiers' who came after her and Chase?" Grant offered up, his eyebrows raised as he stared down at Skye.

"How long ago did they leave?" Skye rounded on Fitz again, causing the scientist to stammer in shock.

"Uh... 'bout twenty minutes ago. Was I... Was I not meant to let her go?" he checked, suddenly crestfallen at the idea of letting his friend down. He shook his head and ran his hand over his jaw in distress, "It's Bobbi isn't it? She's up to no good again, yeah?! I knew it! I bloody knew it. I should have listened to myself, I shouldn't..."

"It's not your fault, Fitz. You couldn't have known," Ward assured him, certain that the kind-hearted Scot would only take minimal comfort from his words, no matter how true they were.

"Hey, relax, it's probably nothing," Skye stated, her features shadowed by her own doubt, "maybe we're just jumping to conclusions."

"Do you honestly believe that?" Ward scoffed, shaking his head as Skye levelled a dark glare at him.

"Ward," she growled through gritted teeth, "not helping."

"Help..." Fitz interjected, his expression brightening as he hurriedly dumped the dishes into the sink and scurried back over to the table. "I could help you... Uhm, let's see... We could trace the quin jet. Hack into the on-board tracking device and find out where they're headed."

"Was Hunter with them?" Ward inquired, as Skye nodded her agreement with Fitz's plan and quickly moved to retrieve the tablet that had been left balanced precariously on the arm of the couch. At a first glance, she was almost certain it belonged to Simmons, especially if the pale blue Doctor Who gel skin that covered it was anything to go by. However, she was sure the biochemist would have no objections to her borrowing the device it would lead to the safe recovery of Molly and her unborn child.

"Didn't see him," Fitz replied, his eyes on Ward, who was rubbing the back of his own neck in a clear sign of distress. Shooting a glance at the doorway and finding it empty, Fitz lowered his voice to a murmur before he asked nervously, "Do you guys really think that S.H.I.E.L.D. want to hurt Molly? What possible reason could Bobbi or Hunter have for..."

"None that I want to think about right now," Skye said distractedly, her fingertips moving rapidly over the screen before her as she struggled to hunt down the S.H.I.E.L.D. jet. When she invariably came up empty, a string of curses escaped her lips. "Damn it!"

"What? What's wrong?" Fitz asked, eyes wide with alarm.

Skye flung the i-pad down onto the couch and shook her head, rapidly beginning to lose her grip on her composure, "It's no good. She's turned off the tracking device."

Fitz bowed his head, staring down at his shoes before he mustered the courage to ask the question that had been forming in his mind. "You think it's Coulson, don't you?"

Ward stared at the scientist in silence, not wanting to be the one to confirm his fears, and yet Fitz apparently needed no persuasion.

"He's been really... odd, lately. Mean, and distant, and..." Fitz sighed, "I always knew Bobbi and Hunter couldn't be trusted. Who else is involved? Oh, not Jemma. Please, not Jemma."

He began to panic, glancing up as Skye came to stand in front of him and placed her hands on his shoulders.

"Jemma wouldn't hurt anybody. You know that," Skye said patiently, narrowing her eyes as Fitz appeared suddenly uncomfortable, visibly squirming under her attention.

"Yeah, well... that's not technically true, I mean... She did... kind of... sort of... kill that Bakshi bloke. But she didn't mean to, she meant to get Ward!" he added, somewhat more brightly, clearing his throat and averting his gaze as Ward rolled his eyes.

Pinching the bridge of her nose between a thumb and forefinger, Skye shook her head and closed her eyes. A headache was fast brewing, and she was certain that at the root of it was Coulson's sudden penchant for using her as a pawn in whatever game he was playing with President Ellis.

"Guys, we can't do this here," Skye stated in a low voice, finally shooting a glance at the vacant hallway as she realised where they were. The Playground was still the epicentre of most of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s activity, and thereby the busiest base they had retained; if there was ever a prime location for a top secret conversation, it certainly wasn't there.

"Let's grab a cup of coffee," Ward suggested, adding quietly, "somewhere quiet and local. That little coffee shop near the library."

Fitz bit his bottom lip and pushed one hand through his already tousled hair, indecision flickering across his face.

"I'll meet you there," he replied, grabbing his jacket up from the back of the chair where it had hung and beginning to shrug it onto his shoulders even as he moved towards the hallway.

Fitz wasted little time in reaching the labs and, once there, he steadied himself for the conversation he knew the four agents would need to have. There was no doubt in his mind that Simmons would be on their side, if only afforded the opportunity; after all, she was his oldest and most trusted friend, and once upon a time, perhaps something so much more.

He sped into the lab, his shoes squeaking against the heavily polished floor, only to screech to a halt as he spied Lincoln beside Jemma, an i-pad and rack of blood vials set out between them.

"Something we can help you with, Fitz?" Lincoln inquired, staring at the Scot, who practically withered under the Inhuman's attention. Shooting Jemma a brief and wholly forced smile, Fitz batted his hand at her as she gazed back at him quizzically.

"Nah. You know what? Doesn't matter. Wasn't important. I'll... I'll come back later, when you're less, uh.. busy."

"If you're sure," Lincoln replied, although his tone conveyed that he wished for Fitz to part from their company sooner rather than later.

Fitz backed out of the lab, noting the obviously confused and intrigued expression spread across Jemma's face. But, as the physicist beat a hasty retreat, Simmons once again dedicated herself to the task at hand.

Scanning the data on the paper before her, she offered Lincoln a sincere smile.

"Right. So, where were we?"


	5. Smoke Fast, Out The Door

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A big 'thank you' to everyone who has read and reviewed so far. We're glad you're enjoying the story! Due to work commitments, there probably won't be another update until Monday, now. But we are hoping to work through this fic as quickly as we can. We have a long list of Skyeward fics all planned out and just waiting to be written. 
> 
> To those who celebrate, 'Happy Purim', or if bunnies are more your thing, 'Happy Easter'!

 

The coffee shop bustled with activity, allowing the three agents room to blend in with the crowds, which whilst useful in one way, was hardly conducive to conversation. After having disabled the tracking device on the SUV, the trio had made a hasty escape from the base, allowing them time to discuss their fears and, in some cases, brood over their mistakes.

"I should have listened to you," Skye lamented, her head in her hands. She released a dejected sigh, glancing up at Ward as he sat down beside her in the booth, his hand curled around her knee in a gesture of comfort.

"It's not your fault," Ward reminded her, squeezing her leg and ignoring the curious glances Fitz levelled in their direction. Though he busied himself with repeatedly checking his phone, he found himself trying to figure out exactly what was going on between Skye and their one-time enemy . His eyes narrowed, a deep frown setting in, and the Scot looked on as Ward looped his arm around Skye's shoulders to draw her closer. He kissed her cheek with such obvious concern and tenderness that even Fitz felt his lips briefly twitch into a smile.

"I knew something was wrong, Grant. I just didn't want to believe it," she said sadly, "Coulson's been like a father to me. I didn't want to think it could be true. And that makes me responsible for what happened to Molly. If anything bad happens to her, or her baby..."

"Shhh," Ward soothed, "you're not responsible for what other people do, Skye. I know that better than anyone, and I know how it feels to want to believe the best in someone... someone you look up to, someone who saved you."

His words hung in the air, and Skye absorbed them thoughtfully, realising that the parallels between her and Ward were only growing. He had followed Garrett just as she had blindly followed Coulson. But she was determined that would be where the symmetry ended. Skye had sworn to fight for her people, and not S.H.I.E.L.D., not Coulson, or any of his government allies, would stand in the way of that.

Ward tugged her closer, his fingers curled around her shoulder; until the couple realised Fitz was not only present, but staring at them both.

"Fitz, I..." Skye began, her eyes widening as he held up his finger to silence her.

"Oh, please... I know you two are doing the nasty," Fitz scoffed, leaning back in his seat as he added with obvious surprise, "and I've got to admit, I had figured you were just sleeping together, but... I don't think that's all this is. This is... this is something else. You're..." he wrinkled his nose as he mused, " _dating_!"

"Well, without the presence of any actual dates," Ward replied, leaning one arm on the back of the booth bench and signalling a passing waitress with a smile. He pushed his mug across the tabletop and patiently waited for the woman to refill his black coffee before he returned his attention to Fitz.

"Must be kind of hard to keep reservations when you're skulking around in secret behind everybody's backs," Fitz stated, just the barest hint of annoyance clinging to his tone.

"Fitz, please, try to understand, if Coulson found out, that would be it for Grant," Skye said, her voice low and urgent as she leaned across the table and captured one of the scientist's hands in her own. "I know that a lot has happened since this all began, I know things have been... I know you've been through hell... I know that I'm asking a lot from you, maybe too much, but I need to believe that there is still a place where everyone gets that second chance."

Fitz screwed his mouth up into a frown, before finally relenting and taking pity on them.

"Oh, relax... I wasn't going to say anything. You're my friend, and... and you've been happier lately than I've seen you in a long time. But _you_..." he rounded on Ward, who appeared taken aback by the gesture, "you hurt this girl again and you'll have me to answer to, got it, pal?!"

"Yes, sir," Ward nodded his agreement, genuinely pleased when Fitz consented to smile back at him.

"Yeah, yeah," Fitz scoffed, grinning to himself as he gestured over towards the counter, "but you're gonna have to buy my silence with a slice of that chocolate cake... extra cream."

"Thank you," Skye replied, squeezing Fitz's hand gently.

Fitz squeezed back and gave a slight nod in Ward's direction, "Tell you what, I like him better than Lincoln."

Skye snorted with laughter, not even needing to look at Ward to know that he would be just as amused by the scientist's slur.

"Yeah... Me too." Ward chuckled, rising from his seat and turning to regard Skye as he gestured towards the counter, where Fitz's prized chocolate cake sat beneath a fancy glass dome.

"Skye, you want anything?" he checked. "You haven't eaten all day."

Skye shook her head, her expression so crestfallen that Ward didn't doubt she was in the process of mentally beating herself up for allowing Molly to slip through their fingers.

"Not hungry," she replied, letting out a sigh so small that it almost escaped Ward's notice, "betrayal tends to kill my appetite."

Grant paused, indecision flickering across his features, before he suddenly leaned forwards and brushed the back of his hand against Skye's cheek, his eyes earnestly sweeping her face.

"Hey, none of this is your fault," he murmured, thumb smoothing the apple of her cheek, "if you don't take care of yourself, how can you help Molly?"

Fitz looked on, finding himself not only surprised but pleased with the obvious changes in Ward's nature; gone was the often cold, sometimes calculating spy that had betrayed them all, and in his place was a man softened by the affections of a woman he prized above everything else. Clearing his throat, Fitz directed their eyes to him and tapped impatiently against the table with the fork he held.

"This is all rather nauseating," he stated, his tone only half serious, "but Ward is right, Daisy. You need to take care of yourself and... I think we need to take care of each other."

"We'll figure this out, baby," Ward bent down and pressed a kiss to her lips, leaving her little time to argue, "and Fitz is right; we stick together."

"Just like old times," Fitz agreed, smiling somewhat sadly at the memory of the relationship that had once existed between the team. In reality, if he were to be truthful, the fractures that split them apart had very little to do with Ward and his previous misdeeds.

"So... what's it gonna be?" Ward nodded at the vast menu boards behind the café counter. Skye shrugged, only really giving them a brief glance, her mind still on other, far more pressing matters.

"I don't care. You know what I like."

He grinned and shot her a mischievous wink, leaning down once again to kiss her.

"Yes, I do," he said softly, his smile only widening as she consented to laugh. Fitz cleared his throat, his hands clasped together impatiently on the table top.

"That cake's not going to get itself, Ward."

Standing up and retrieving his wallet from his back pocket, Grant sighed for effect.

"I know what you like, too. Chocolate cake, extra cream, ice-cream on the side, not on the cake... hot fudge sauce, and... " he paused, memory working overtime and casting him back to happier days, "sprinkles."

Fitz's eyes widened and he grinned in obvious approval, although he wasn't about to let Ward off the hook yet. "Yeah, magic. Off you pop, then."

Waiting until Ward was out of earshot, Fitz shook his head in both awe and confusion.

Regarding Skye with a teasing smirk playing across his lips, he demanded, "That's a life model decoy, right? I mean... bloody hell. What have you done to him? I... I don't mean like that... Is he a pod person or something?"

Skye chuckled softly, although there was an inherent sadness in her eyes that no amount of friendly teasing or jokes could dispel.

"Who would have thought that the big, bad wolf had a soft, squishy centre, right?" she quipped, pushing one hand through her hair in order to brush it away from her face.

"It's kind of nice," Fitz replied, expression sobering, "and for what it's worth right now, I think you made the right call with him. You know, bringing him on board and making sure he was rehabilitated."

"Coulson would have agreed with me too once," Skye murmured, and the tears sprang to her eyes so quickly that Fitz was almost shocked.

"Hey, none of that," he coaxed, gesturing towards the counter, where Ward was placing their rather hearty order, "the three of us will figure this out, Skye. We just need to know where Morse took Molly, and why."

"I'm sure Coulson's just going to come clean on that one," Skye replied sardonically as she wiped the tears from her eyes with the back of her hand and forced herself to flash Grant a smile when he glanced back to the table.

"Well, I suppose asking him would be the simplest approach, but if S.H.I.E.L.D. really is plotting something for the Inhumans with the governments help, then I doubt Coulson is going to share with us," Fitz agreed, his eyes sparkling as he added, "but every deal leaves a paper trail, Daisy. You know that. No matter how well hidden it might be. You just have to look in the right places."

Skye leaned back in her seat, obviously turning over an idea in her mind.

Sighing in frustration, she stated, "We need access to his personal emails."

Fitz nodded, buoyed significantly as he saw Ward approaching with a tray laden with food, including his prized chocolate cake.

"Yeah, sounds sensible. You can do that though, right? Should be a piece of cake," he pointed towards the tray Ward placed between them and grinned endearingly, "piece of cake? Get it? No? Righto."

"Not exactly," Skye said with a wince, smiling in thanks at Grant as he deposited a plate of sandwiches in front of her, along with a chocolate brownie. "It's pretty much unhackable."

Fitz and Ward exchanged equally confused expressions, before Ward replied, "Everything can be hacked, Skye. You said that yourself."

Skye nodded, reaching out and lifting a sandwich from the plate, her appetite suddenly awakening in the presence of food.

"Uh-huh..." she bobbed her head as she chewed thoughtfully, "except that I'm the one who set up his account security. Nothing's getting through that bad boy."

"Then nobody knows how to find a loophole better than you," Ward stated, "if there's weakness, you'll find it."

"I'm suddenly hating how awesome I am," Skye chuckled, taking another hearty bite of her sandwich.

"Welcome to my world," Fitz sighed dramatically, smiling back at his friends as they each smirked at his joke.

"I guess I can find a way in, but it might take days. We need a back-up plan," Skye stated, pushing the plate towards Ward and insisting he also partake in the stacks of sandwiches.

"You think we can get a bug in his office?" Ward inquired, looking at each of his companions in turn, "if we want to know what's going on, we need ears on the inside. I'm also not wholly against tying Lincoln to a chair and torturing it out of him..."

Fitz swallowed his mouthful of food and looked at Ward with trepidation. "He's kidding, right?"

At Ward's completely sober expression, Fitz laid down his fork, eyes wide and worried.

"Probably not," Skye deadpanned, shooting a warning glare at Grant, who only shrugged and bit into a sandwich, "we're already going to be breaking a crap-tonne of laws and S.H.I.E.L.D. protocols, let's try to keep the bloodshed to a minimum, at least until we get to the bottom of all this."

"There's still a chance that we've gotten things wrong, isn't there?" Fitz pressed, dipping his index finger into a mound of cream and then quickly licking it clean. "I mean, Coulson's made some questionable decisions in the past but... He's never been a monster... Right?"

Ward swallowed hard, replacing his sandwich onto the plate with only a single bite missing, but suddenly he found that his appetite had deserted him. Skye shot him a concerned glance and her fingers encircled his wrist without a second thought passing through her mind. She knew that he was remembering it all; Maveth, Gideon Malick, and the moment that the man he had once admired had crushed the life from him with one hand.

Realising what he had said, Fitz winced and rubbed one hand over his face.

"Ward, I... I'm sorry..." he muttered, shaking his head and beginning to push his own plate aside.

"No, I..." Ward began, trailing off as Skye leaned closer into his body, offering him comfort with her presence, "I deserved to pay for everything I'd done."

"Maybe so," Fitz answered, sniffing as he shot Ward a dark look, "but not like that, mate. Never like that."

Ward was silent, his jaw set as something flickered behind his eyes; recollection, anger, pain... fear. Skye saw the haunted expression on his face, which had become something she was sadly familiar with - although usually in the small hours of the morning, when nightmares tormented him and forced him awake with an anguished cry that made her blood run cold.

Fitz diplomatically averted his gaze as Skye reached out and curled her fingers around Ward's jaw, turning his head forcibly to face her.

"Hey..." she said softly, "we're not going there. We've gotta think about the future, right?"

She caressed his clean-shaven skin and kissed his cheek repeatedly. His fingers tangled in her hair and he held her close, breathing in her scent and instantly finding a sense of peace in her arms. Her cheeks blushing a deep pink, Skye stole a glance over at Fitz and then looked up slowly at Grant, dismissing the indecision that made her briefly falter.

"And... I love you," she confessed, smiling and rolling her eyes at the ridiculous circumstances they found themselves in, "I know this isn't the best time or place to say that for the first time... but... I do."

Ward remained silent, his mouth opening slowly as her words washed over him and their meaning sank in. It was perhaps the first time that anyone had ever made such an affirmation to him, and whilst he knew that Skye had hoped that the first time would be special and perhaps fraught with less angst, Ward found himself more than ecstatic in that moment. However, a smile would not come easily to him, perhaps thwarted by the tiny but insistent voice in the back of his mind that warned him he didn't deserve her, and that karma would soon be coming for him.

"I..." he began, leaning forwards but suddenly finding himself silenced by the fingertip Skye pressed to his lips.

"When you're ready," she murmured, shaking her head, eyes dancing to his lips. Nodding his understanding, Ward closed the space between them and kissed her with renewed hunger.

If he still didn't find himself deserving of saying those three words to her, he more than expressed his feelings in that kiss, and his hand cupped her cheek as she sighed against his eager mouth. Ward kissed her over and over again, oblivious to the stares of fellow diners, and the red-faced Scot trying to deflect attention from them with a nervous smile.

"If you're going to go at it on the table, let me know so I can move my cake out of the way," Fitz remarked, finding himself thoroughly embarrassed by the uncharacteristic show of affection.

The Grant Ward he knew would have done anything to avoid such a public display, but apparently that too had changed. Feeling the weight of half a dozen stares, Skye finally drew away from the kiss, blushing as she grinned both in response to Fitz's horror and the words Ward whispered huskily into her ear.

"You two..." Fitz pointed at them with his fork, using his finger to wipe the remnants of chocolate sauce from the edge of the plate, "are seriously lacking in self control."

Skye's eyes shone with affection, and she giggled as she shrugged in agreement, "We've got a lot of time to make up for, huh robot?"

Ward nodded sagely, his arm hugging her into his side, but the couple straightened up in their seats and shot Fitz appropriately serious looks that conveyed they were ready to get back to business.

"Okay," Skye sighed, drumming her fingertips against her arm. Her tone conveyed just how unbelievable she found her following words. "Let's get back to talking about how we potentially bring down S.H.I.E.L.D..."

Ward widened his eyes and he shook his head as he chimed in, "Hey, I was saying this two years ago, and all I got from you people was a cosy cell and four bullets at close range."

Skye rolled her eyes and bit back a smirk, blindly whacking him in the chest as he chuckled.

Fitz's lips settled into a frown, "He makes jokes now. Cute."

"Guys," Skye warned, effectively calling the table to order. Both Ward and Fitz fixed their attention on Skye who, for all intents and purposes, it seemed had suddenly been promoted to leader of the minor coup they were staging.

"Okay," she murmured, folding her hands on the table and biting her bottom lip, "let's talk strategy."

x-x-x

Simmons stared off into space, elbow leaning on the lab counter and her chin propped on her palm. She was evidently lost in thought, although Lincoln was at a loss as to exactly what it was that appeared to be haunting her. He was certain that she hadn't noticed anything off regarding their current project, and he had been careful to avoid piquing her interest whenever he filed anything away on the computer system, just as Coulson and the others had instructed him. He had to admit that the world of espionage was entirely new to him, and he was second guessing his decisions at every step, afraid that even the slightest misjudgement might lead to their discovery and subsequently ruin the carefully laid plans they had made.

"Something on your mind, Jemma?" he prompted, eyebrows raised as she stood up straight and cleared her throat, as though guilty at being caught in her daydream.

"No, nothing at all," she forced a smile, her features sobering somewhat as she asked the question she had been poised to seconds before. Propriety was one thing, but her curiosity was another matter entirely.

"It's just... I..." she began, pulling her lips into a tight line and rubbing her forehead with her fingertips.

"You just..." Lincoln coached, his nerves now causing his heart rate to quicken as he wondered whether or not the Brit's suspicions had been raised. If Simmons got wind of their plan, there could be very serious ramifications. Not least of all, a very angry group of super-powered Inhumans, led by his ex girlfriend - if he supposed you could call her that, since they had barely been together long enough to have any specific label attached to them.

"I was just wondering... why you want to be normal?" Jemma's face contorted into a grimace, "humans, we're all... all so boring, really. And being Inhuman makes you different, it makes you special. Now, I know I wasn't entirely on board with the concept before, but... now I've seen how Daisy helps people with her gift, I..."

"Gift?" Lincoln laughed but without any shred of humour present. "Don't ever call it that."

"I'm sorry, I don't mean to offend you," Jemma conceded, bowing her head slightly as she continued, "I'm just trying to understand."

"I thought... I thought I could count on you, Simmons?" Lincoln said, forcing his tone to become subdued and tinged with as much disappointment as he could muster. "Are you having second thoughts about the cure? Is that it?"

Jemma shook her head quickly, raising her eyes to Lincoln's face and frowning when she found that his expression was not so easily placed or categorised. He peered blankly at her, his demeanour giving very little away.

"No, it's not that," she replied, sighing tiredly as she hopped up onto a stool and crossed her legs, "I made you a promise and I intend to see that through. It's just that a cure could be a very dangerous thing in the wrong hands, and I would hate to have been a part of that."

"Go on..." Lincoln said, leaning back against the cupboard and crossing his arms over his chest.

"It should be a personal choice, when... If an Inhuman wishes to forego their powers," she explained, gnawing on her bottom lip as she continued to stare at Lincoln, searching for some sort of reaction, "it just seems like you'd be stripping away an integral part of who you are. When Daisy first got her powers, I was very against it all... Perhaps I was afraid, but the point is I made her feel like the only option was to deny who she had become instead of embracing it."

"Oh yeah, and what do you know about this?" Lincoln demanded, shaking his head, an irritated smile playing across his lips.

Jemma paused for a moment, clearly contemplative, before she sucked in a breath and reached out for Lincoln. He moved away from her touch immediately, as though he was afraid that her fingers would burn him.

"I can't possibly understand what you go through as an Inhuman," Jemma said, her tone measured and calm, "but I think that, if it were me, I would want to..."

"But it's not," Lincoln interrupted, suddenly straightening up and startling Jemma into silence, "it's not you. You have absolutely no idea what it's like to be feared... To be looked at every single day of your life as though you are dangerous - some sort of weapon - a threat that needs to be monitored and indexed and catalogued and maybe even confined. My name is on a list, Simmons... A God-damn list that any sick son of a bitch could access at any time and just decide that I'm too dangerous to allow to go on breathing. Does that sound like some sort of epic legacy to you?!"

"I think you're being a tad over dramatic..." Jemma began, shocked by the vehement disdain he so obviously held for his own people.

"Well it's not your opinion that matters here, is it?" he countered angrily, "and... for the record, I agree with them. I agree with the register. Inhumans are freaks. We're not supposed to exist like this, it's in violation of the laws of nature and science."

Simmons narrowed her eyes, "There are plenty of things in both science and the natural world that we don't understand yet. Simply because we don't have the capability to explain something... well, that doesn't mean it's wrong or it shouldn't exist."

Lincoln's features contorted further with his growing anger, and he gripped the edge of the lab table as he glared at her contemptuously.

"Every crappy thing that has ever happened to me has been because of my powers. The Afterlife, Jiaying, the war with S.H.I.E.L.D... Daisy..."

"Now just a minute!" Simmons said indignantly, "I don't think a break-up is a genuine reason for wanting to systematically wipe your own species out of the gene pool. Perhaps you just... weren't compatible."

Lincoln huffed out a laugh, his eyebrow arched in amusement, "But her and that sociopathic asshole... they're a perfect match, right?"

Simmons swallowed, finding that Lincoln had surreptitiously confirmed her earlier suspicions about Skye and Ward.

"Well, we can't help who we love, can we?!"

Lincoln scoffed at the notion, "There's no place for Inhumans in our world. And what happens if Daisy and that bastard decide to pop out a bunch of super-powered, mini psychopaths? You know how powerful she is, and she's half human. Imagine what a pure, 100% Inhuman could do?! That doesn't scare you?"

Simmons shrugged, thinking over his point with a building sense of unease with her own contribution to his work.

"I think that's nonsense. And... look at Molly! Lovely girl, I can't imagine she'll raise her child to be anything other than a valuable, productive member of society."

Lincoln's expression hardened further, and he flipped the cover over the i-pad on the table before him as he said bitterly, "Kindest thing that girl could do - for herself and society - is deal with that thing now, before it becomes a problem that nobody's qualified to deal with."

Mouth open in both shock at his callousness and rage at his insinuation, Jemma regarded him with open hostility.

"Now just a minute! That is just... just an _awful_ thing to say. I have to say, as a medical professional I'm surprised at you!"

"Medical professional? I don't see an MD after your name, Jemma," Lincoln replied, arrogant and condescending smile firmly in place.

Cocking her head, Simmons picked up her computer pad from the table, hugging it to her chest as she countered, "Funny, I don't see one after your name either. That would imply that you'd graduated from medical school, which of course you haven't. Now, I'm afraid my involvement with this project can't continue any further. I suggest you find yourself a more suitable lab partner."

Lincoln watched with poorly concealed annoyance as Jemma stormed out of the lab, not bothering to call after her or even attempt to run the damage control he surmised he should. Letting out a loud growl, he wheeled around and, with his full strength behind him, repeatedly kicked the door of the metal supply cabinet until it buckled under the assault.

Jemma sniffled as she scurried down the corridor, folders of research clutched to her chest alongside the i-pad that contained her personal notes. Although she knew that Lincoln already had more than enough information to help him on his quest, it had felt wrong to leave them there in his hands, where she now supposed they could do infinitely more harm then good.

She let out a soft cry as she slammed straight into a solid wall, belongings flying from her hands and skittering across the floor out of her reach as the tears tripped her cheeks and splashed onto the front of her lab coat. She let out a strangled gasp when she glanced up and her eyes met a pair of familiar brown orbs that she had come to fear.

"Hey, easy there, Simmons, where's the fire?" Grant murmured, gently resting his hands on the scientist's shoulders and holding her steady, his expression softening as he noted the tears streaking her cheeks.

"Jemma?" he bowed his head, seeking out her eyes, which he was shocked to find flooded with fresh tears. "What happened?"

Wiping hurriedly at her cheeks, Simmons shook her head, glancing towards the laboratory doors as she whispered fearfully, "Lincoln, I..."

"Did he hurt you?" Skye demanded, standing at Ward's side and casting an analytical gaze over her friend as she tried to find the cause for her apparent distress. Jemma sniffled miserably and shook her head, her whole body trembling as she rested her head on Grant's shoulder - a gesture which took both Ward and Jemma herself by surprise.

"I'm afraid..." she confessed, closing her eyes as Skye's hand rubbed soothing circles on her back.

Fitz looked on in horror, his eyes widening as she added tearfully, " _I'm afraid of what I've helped him do_."


	6. Hold Out Your Arms, Soak It In

 

Slipping into Coulson's office undetected had been the easy part of Fitz's mission, given that he knew the director's schedule almost as well as his own. As soon as Coulson had ducked out to conduct his weekly meeting with S.H.I.E.L.D.'s accountancy department, Fitz had disabled the hallway camera for precisely five seconds - just long enough to allow himself to gain entry - before he had closed the door behind himself and set about searching for somewhere to plant his bug.

The device had been developed with undetectability in mind, and thus had been designed to be no larger than a dime. Fitz rolled it around his fingers as he stood in the centre of the room, eyes scanning every single available orifice for suitability. When he found his mind drawing a blank, he grumbled quietly under his breath, clenching his jaw as he bounced on his heels. His nerves were beginning to get the better of him, and Fitz knew that he couldn't afford to stumble at the first hurdle, especially considering that the lives of Molly and her family were riding on their success.

Recalling the instructions that Ward had drilled into him - 'get in, plant the bug somewhere discreet, get out' - he set about choosing the perfect location. Deciding on the back of the frame that housed a Captain America trading card, Fitz stuck the tiny device to the wood, before straightening it back up and glancing around the room to make sure he hadn't disturbed anything else.

"Right... okay..." he clasped his hands together, "done... There. That wasn't so hard."

The traces of a smile twitched at his lips as he headed toward the exit. He started suddenly as the door swung open and Coulson strode in, blinking in surprise as he saw the young scientist loitering in his office.

"Fitz? Is there something I can do for you?" Coulson asked, torn between suspicion and irritation.

"Uh... No. Well, actually... Uh... Simmons forgot to give the sonogram pictures to Molly. She left so quickly, that she didn't get a chance to give them to her. Wanted to know if you knew where she could send them to...So... I said I'd uh... I'd find out."

Fitz fell abruptly silent, flashing Coulson a smile that he hoped could be construed as genuine. Ward's voice echoed in his mind, urging him to stay calm in the light of potential discovery, and Fitz forced himself to take a step towards the director, his hands jammed in his pockets in feigned nonchalance.

Coulson only stared, eyebrows drawn together as he regarded the scientist, thoughts racing through his mind a mile a minute. However, he ensured that none of the suspicion coursing through him bled into his facial expression, and he instead returned Fitz's smile.

"I'm afraid that's classified, Agent Fitz," Coulson stated, doing his best to sound apologetic as Fitz appeared crestfallen.

"Oh, that's a shame. See, Jemma and I thought she might like to have the pictures of the wee mite, for..." Fitz continued, his mouth closing suddenly as Coulson interjected.

"Still classified, Fitz. This is a secret agency, not Planned Parenthood," he replied, shaking his head as he approached his desk, "so if that's everything?"

"Is uh... Is everything alright with young Molly? She left awfully quickly," Fitz stated, jamming his shaking hands into his pockets to hide his unease. "Poor girl's had a tough time of it, what with her boyfriend going missing and all. Did you hear about that?"

Coulson sighed, his hand twitching at his side as he attempted to discern if Fitz was trying to unearth information or was simply being annoying. His common sense informed him it was probably the latter.

"I'm sure wherever she is, she's being taken care of," Coulson stated confidently. Fitz frowned, feigning an expression of amplified confusion.

"Oh. You don't know where she is? But I thought Bobbi took her off somewhere?!" He intercepted the icy glare Coulson shot him with a nervous cough. "Oh, you know what? Maybe I got the wrong end of the stick. Yeah, was probably that. I'll uh.. I'll tell Jemma to just file the print outs away... in case Molly comes back."

Coulson walked over to his top drawer, pulling out a wad of files and slamming it closed again. "Tell Simmons I want any paperwork on Molly Hayes destroyed. That goes for the sonogram images, too. Now... Was there something you wanted to discuss with me, Fitz, or can I get back to my meeting?!"

"I..." Fitz began, his mouth falling open in astonishment as he digested Coulson's orders. Before he could comment further, there was a sharp knock on the door frame, and Agent May stepped inside the office, her eyes on Fitz even as she cleared her throat.

"You're needed, Phil," she said, her tone devoid of any curiosity she might have felt at Fitz's presence.

Coulson shot May a small smile, foraging on his desk briefly for whatever item he had forgotten, before he moved back towards the door.

"Look, Fitz, we'll talk later, okay?" Coulson stated, his voice and countenance softening as he shot the young man his first genuine smile and then disappeared into the corridor.

Fitz watched him go in perfect silence, his eyes ticking to May, who had been observing him the whole time.

"What's going on here, May?" Fitz pressed, quirking a brow at the older agent, "something's not right... Not just with S.H.I.E.L.D. but with Coulson too."

May chanced a glance down the hall, checking Coulson was out of earshot.

"You have no idea what you're getting yourself into, Fitz," she stated urgently, "don't dig any further on this."

Fitz's expression fell, and he shook his head at her in evident disappointment.

"You know, don't you? You know what he's up to... How.. How could you, May? How could you let him do this to an innocent girl?"

May rolled her eyes, her patience clearly wearing thin.

"See the bigger picture, Fitz!" she snapped, "you think this is all about one teenage girl?"

Fitz swallowed hard, stammering as he added, "It's not?"

May's expression soured, and she licked her lips nervously. "You think I don't know that Coulson's gotten into something questionable? I see everything that goes on around here. I can give my best guess why you were in Coulson's office. I know Daisy and Ward are in a relationship, they have been for months now."

Fitz narrowed his eyes, holding up a finger to halt her tirade. "And you haven't told anyone?"

"No," May said firmly, "and I don't intend to, either."

Fitz appeared entirely confused by her admission. "But.. I thought you hated Ward. Why would you keep their secret?"

"To protect her," May said angrily, "to protect Daisy!"

She lowered her voice as she added hurriedly, "If Coulson found out, I don't want to think about the fallout, not just for Ward, but for her too."

Fitz smiled in obvious desperation, wringing his hands as he hesitated, "But... But Coulson wouldn't hurt Daisy... Right?"

May remained silent for a moment, lowering her gaze to the ground, her jaw tensing as she considered his statement. "I don't know what Coulson's capable of any more. Now, I don't want to know what you were doing in here... but I suggest you stop looking for trouble. It'll find us all soon enough."

Fitz glanced down at the carpet momentarily, mind working overtime as he processed May's admittance. Finally, his gaze settled back on her face, and he resisted the urge to shudder at the look of almost fear he saw there. It was a widely known fact that the Cavalry was afraid of nothing.

"You could help us," he insisted, stepping forward and lightly touching the woman's arm, his eyes imploring. "Please, May, help us get to the bottom of all this. Maybe it's not too late."

May only shook her head, resting her own hand lightly atop Fitz's with a decidedly grim look overtaking her features.

"The three of you need to get as far away from all of this as you can," May insisted, dropping her voice to a murmur as she continued, "maybe Ward can convince Daisy to get out of here. God knows nobody else can. But you need to leave this alone. I will handle things."

"And what if you can't?" Fitz demanded, squaring his jaw and staring down at the agent, "what if it's too much? You can't do everything on your own, May."

May shook her head, waving her hand in front of her to try to silence the increasingly irate Scot.

"Fitz, you don't get it, do you? This is so much bigger than Coulson, or S.H.I.E.L.D., for that matter. The President has drawn a hard line in regards to Inhumans... nothing Coulson does is without executive orders," she raised both eyebrows as she emphasized her point.

"The President? What? I..." Fitz ran his hands through his hair, turning in a half circle as he struggled to accept the information May was imparting. Suddenly staring at her, eyes wide, he asked fearfully, "What's going to happen to the Inhumans, May?"

The Specialist averted her gaze, closing her eyes momentarily as she stated in barely above a whisper, "It's already happening."

x-x-x

Skye's fingers danced over the laptop keys so rapidly that Ward's eyes could barely detect the movement, but he watched nonetheless, transfixed by every move she made. Leaning back against the headboard of his bed, he raised his coffee mug to his lips and waited for Skye to indicate that she had completed her task, knowing that interrupting her beforehand would be fruitless.

When she finally hit the 'return' key and let loose a low but triumphant cry, Ward flashed her a smile and patted the mattress beside him.

"How'd it go?" Ward inquired when Skye took a moment to set her laptop aside onto a chair before crawling across the bed to nestle herself into his side.

"I have a programme running, working the hack for me," Skye said, her voice low as though she half expected someone to be listening, "it's new and kind of experimental, but I designed it to specifically target loopholes, back-doors, weaknesses."

"How long?" Ward murmured, brushing his lips against the crown of her head and sighing as he inhaled the scent of shampoo clinging to her shower damp hair.

"Hard to say," Skye stated, shrugging, "the programme will try to find a way in through any means possible. Some options will take minutes to exhaust, some will take hours... A few could take days. As soon as it's done, I'll receive an alert message that I've linked up to my cell phone."

"So, in the meantime..." he sighed, placing his coffee mug down onto the night-stand with a sigh, "we wait."

"Yep," Skye echoed his sigh, her thoughts drifting to not only Molly, but the details of the conversation with May that Fitz had hysterically relayed to them. Pressing a kiss into her hair once again, he held her close, moving down further in the bed to recline as she lay her head on his shoulder and hugged her arm across his chest.

"You know... in spite of everything," he paused, clearly seeking the courage to voice his words, "I'm happy."

A slow smile settled on Skye's lips, and she peered up at him through wide, brown eyes.

"Me too," she replied, leaning up as he inclined his head and kissed her languidly.

"So... I have my own drawer, huh?" she giggled, feeling his fingers curl around her hip. "That's like... seriously hardcore commitment there, Ward."

He chuckled at her teasing, inclining his head so he could meet her gaze.

"I like to think of it as an investment. You can stay here in my room or... I could stay in yours?" he fished.

"But your room is so much tidier than mine," she stifled her laughter against his chest, "and, we're further away from the others, so.. you know..." she blushed, "they can't hear us."

Ward smirked, one eyebrow raised as he slid his hand down to curve around her rear, and he heard her sigh airily in approval. "Hear _you_ , you mean."

"I bet I could make you scream," Skye replied, her tone growing husky as her eyes flickered to Ward's lips and she pressed herself closer to his side. Hands fastening around her waist, locking her in place, he grinned as his fingers slyly drew up the hem of her pyjama shirt.

"Oh you could?" Ward teased, his hand sliding low onto the waistband of Skye's pyjama shorts suddenly as he appeared to change his mind.

"I'm pretty confident," Skye concluded, shrugging. Her gaze lingered on Ward's face, and she paused a moment in her teasing in order to lean forward, brush his lips in a sweet kiss, and then run her hand along the length of his cheekbone. Recognising the sudden change in mood from decidedly steamy to somewhat melancholy, Ward wrapped his own hand around Skye's.

"Everything okay?" he checked, concern lacing his tone as she folded herself into his chest, her forehead resting over his heartbeat as though she was seeking comfort.

"Grant, I'm scared," she murmured, refusing to move from the spot she had taken refuge in, "I can't shake this horrible feeling that we're going to dig up something really bad... That all this is going to end."

Ward frowned as if not understanding her inference.

"You and me?" he inquired, his lips brushing her cheek as he held her tightly. "Skye?"

"No," she said quickly, reaching up and sliding her hand around his neck as she caressed his warm skin and all but buried her face into his chest. "This... S.H.I.E.L.D."

She felt him sigh hard, and his hand swept comforting circles across her back. He felt no deep-rooted loyalty to the organisation, even though he once again found himself working within the agency. As far as Ward was concerned, he was loyal to Skye; that was where his motives began and ended.

"No matter what we find, you know I'm not going anywhere? Not unless you want me to. I don't care about S.H.I.E.L.D., I can't pretend to give a shit about what happens to Coulson or his agency... I'm here for you, nothing else. So if your future is outside of this place, then that's where I go too."

"What about FitzSimmons?" Skye asked worriedly, "if you and I have to get out of here, what happens to them?! If Coulson found out they were..."

Interrupting her tirade with a pointed kiss to her temple, he stated firmly, "We take them with us."

"I guess we've started poking the bear now and..." Skye sighed, trailing off as words failed her.

"We're doing the right thing," Ward insisted, capturing Skye's hands in his own and rubbing his thumbs over her skin. "Think about Molly and Chase."

Skye let out a puff of laughter, although there was no humour present in the gesture, only frustration and pain.

"I've thought about nothing else since we picked her up," she revealed, shaking her head and closing her eyes as her cheek rested against the solid wall of Ward's chest, and his steady heartbeat began to melt some of the tension out of her body.

"We'll find them," he assured her, closing his eyes as Skye's fingertips caressed the back of his neck, and he found himself soothed by her touch. "And if we have to? We'll get out of here, leave S.H.I.E.L.D. behind. We have an out, Skye. I have places we can go and you can make us disappear."

The idea of leaving the only home she had ever known was not something Skye really wanted to dwell on, but she knew that it might very well come to the point where the only real option for she and Ward - and perhaps FitzSimmons too - was to get out from under Coulson's rule.

And, if her worst suspicions were confirmed, it might lead to so much more than that. For the first time since she'd known him, Skye had realised that even she wouldn't be safe from Coulson's wrath, should he find out they were investigating his secretive projects. Of course, she was also certain that the full extent of his rage would be directed at Ward, and that was something she could never allow.

x-x-x

The dark circles underneath Simmons' eyes were apparent from the doorway, where Skye stood with her elbow propped against the frame and her hands encircling a mug of steaming tea. Simmons had been conspicuous in her absence from the breakfast table that morning, and it hadn't taken Skye long to figure out that she was likely still holed up in her room, brooding about the information she had provided Lincoln, which could prove instrumental in his quest for the cure. Although Skye knew that Fitz had spent the majority of the previous evening and long into the early hours of the morning with Simmons, attempting to talk her out of her self loathing, she was certain he had been unsuccessful. So, as soon as her morning work out was complete and she had taken a shower, Skye had decided that a visit to the labs was long overdue.

Clearing her throat from the doorway, she flashed Jemma a smile as the woman's head whipped up from the computer screen she had been studying. Her responding smile was slow to emerge and clearly strained, and when she beckoned Skye into the lab, her eyes flitted worriedly to the door. Immediately catching on to her train of thought, Skye tapped a button on the wall console and the lab door slid closed behind her.

She rested the cup of tea down at Simmons' elbow and touched the other woman's arm lightly, her fingers brushing over the white coat she wore.

"Thought you could use a break. Fitz says you've been holed up in here for hours," Skye stated, somewhat relieved when Simmons reached instantly for the mug and raised it to her lips, closing her eyes as she took a deep sip.

"My mother always says there's no problem that can't be solved with a good cup of tea," Jemma said, her voice sounding hoarse and thick with weariness.

"She's never tried my tea," Skye quipped with a chuckle.

"She's never worked for S.H.I.E.L.D. either," Jemma said with a sigh.

Skye sat down beside the scientist and placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "It's not your fault, Jem. You had no idea Lincoln was up to something sketchy."

Simmons nodded miserably, a watery smile gracing her lips that indicated she in no way believed Skye's summation of events.

"That's what Fitz said, but I... I should have realised. His behaviour has been so strange and distant lately. He's never quite fitted in around here I know, but he's not acting like himself at all."

Skye shrugged, still desperately ashamed of the fact she had briefly dated the man in question.

"I don't know. Maybe he is finally being himself. I think... I think I misjudged him, you know?! Hey, silver lining?" she cajoled, "at least you didn't sleep with the guy."

Simmons consented to smile, and she laughed at the telling grimace that pulled at Skye's lips. Clasping the mug between her hands, Jemma allowed a brief moment to pass before she stated somewhat awkwardly. "That was unimaginably embarrassing yesterday. I can't imagine what came over me, man handling Ward like that."

"Don't worry about it," Skye assured her, placing her hand over Jemma's wrist and curling her fingers around the woman's arm. "Jemma, look, whatever happens... The four of us need to stick together."

Simmons appeared mildly uncomfortable at the concept of including Ward in any of their plans, but she managed a weak smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "So... You and Ward are spending quite a bit of time together."

Skye laughed and rolled her eyes, the faintest blush colouring her cheeks,"Come on, Jemma. Quit fishing. You know exactly what's going on between Grant and I. And I'm pretty sure Fitz has already filled you in. Give him a chance, please, Jem? For me?"

Simmons swallowed another mouthful of tea, her eyes ticking to the counter as she made a very deliberate attempt to avoid Skye's gaze.

"I..." Simmons began, resting her mug down at her elbow as she finally consented to regard her friend, who was bouncing from one foot to the other, as she occasionally did when she was nervous.

"I'm not ready to forgive Ward for... Well, for anything, really," Jemma sighed, shaking her head almost apologetically as she reached out and clasped Skye's hand.

"I understand," Skye replied, squeezing her friend's fingers. She hopped up onto a lab stool at her side, opening her mouth to continue when the lab door let out a shrill beep and suddenly slid open again.

Simmons and Skye immediately dropped each other's hands, both adopting false smiles that would be easily discernible to anyone who knew them well enough. Fortunately for them both, it was Hunter that strode in through the door, arms folded across his chest as he regarded them, just the faintest traces of suspicion in his eyes.

"There's a briefing in five minutes," he stated, flashing a look at Skye as he added, "mandatory attendance. Coulson's orders."

"We'll be there," Jemma assured him brightly, her smile never once wavering as she stared at him, waiting for him to retreat quickly from the lab again as he usually did unless Bobbi was in attendance. When he made no move to exit, Skye allowed a scowl to overtake her lips instead.

"Something we can help you with, Hunter?" she pressed, arching a brow in the man's direction.

After several moments of thick, uncomfortable silence, Hunter finally spat out, "Not a damn thing, love."

"Jolly good. Well we'll see you in there, then..." Simmons said pointedly, "unless you'd like to discuss menstrual cramps with us, Lance? In which case you're very welcome to stay."

Momentarily grimacing, he cast a fleeting eye over the pair before he shook his head, "No, you... Uh... You carry on."

"Splendid," Jemma agreed, her smile never faltering until the door had closed and Lance had disappeared once and for all.

"Women's troubles. Never fails to send a man running for the hills," Simmons stated knowledgeably, placing her tea mug down and then turning to regard her friend with an earnest expression in place. "I'm not ready to forgive Ward. But, I think perhaps I'm prepared to let him earn my forgiveness. Fitz said that... Well, he said Ward was different, with you. I want to believe there is good in him, and I want you to be happy. So, I'll give him a chance to prove he's no longer a duplicitous, murdering, treacherous lunatic, and I suppose we'll go from there."

Skye smiled, wincing at the long list of former character traits the Brit had listed.

"He's different now, Jemma. I think... I think he's finally who he's always wanted to be. The real Ward is... He's a good man. You'll see."

Simmons took a final sip of her tea before she patted the back of Skye's hand and nodded towards the door.

"I suppose we'd better head to this briefing, then. I don't want that blasted little man coming back here," she referred to Hunter with a sour frown in place and Skye snorted her agreement.

Chuckling, Skye offered her arm to the scientist, pleased when Jemma flashed her a warm smile and looped her own arm through hers. Together, they ventured out of the lab, setting out towards the briefing room side by side, and preparing to face whatever S.H.I.E.L.D. had to throw at them next as a united front.


	7. Out Here In The Garden Of Angels

"This is bullshit..."

Skye stormed out of the briefing room, a thunderous look crashing across her features as she strode down the corridor, shooting a dark glare at a random agent who stumbled into her path quite by accident.

"Daisy, wait!" Fitz called out, finding that he had broken into an almost run in order to keep pace with the Inhuman, who it seemed was intent upon making her way to the training room in order to vent her frustration on the punching bag.

"Skye!" Ward shouted, only paces behind F itz as he and Simmons tumbled out of the briefing room and wasted no time in following Skye, who had already succeeded in disappearing into the gym.

"Fuck this!" Skye raged, as Ward, Simmons and Fitz crossed the threshold of the room together, "fuck him! How dare he? He put me in charge of the Inhumans. I'm their leader, for fu..."

"Skye, calm down," Ward coaxed, interrupting her tirade as he moved towards her and attempted to gather her into his arms. However, Skye wrenched herself free from his grasp, not content to be soothed in the wake of such a betrayal.

Coulson's orders had been simple; a renegade group of Inhumans had set up camp in woodland just outside of Raleigh, and their leader had been linked to a recent robbery at a firearms store. A plethora of weaponry and ammunition had been stolen, leaving little doubt as to the group's intent to use terminal force in a fight the S.H.I.E.L.D. director insisted they were set on bringing to the agency.

For Skye's part, she felt it more a show of fear - as if the group, including those who had yet to go through Terrigenisis, felt the desperate need to defend themselves from the oncoming enemy.

The S.H.I.E.L.D. strike team was to infiltrate the camp and round up the criminals responsible for the robbery; although all had been confused when the director had stated that the strike team would not include Skye, or her flame wielding partner.

"I can't believe he'd send Bobbi and Hunter. I'm the leader of the Inhumans, I could have talked to them, I..." Skye spat angrily, her face contorted with the kind of rage Ward could not recall having witnessed before - even as she had emptied a round of bullets into his side.

"Maybe that's the point," Fitz stated darkly, "he doesn't want you talking to them."

Ward and the scientist exchanged grave looks, and the latter started slightly as May came striding down the corridor.

Skye rolled her eyes in abject irritation, holding her hand out towards her former mentor. "If you've come to bitch me out, May, don't even bother," she snapped, surprised at the expression on the older woman's face that indicated weariness rather than annoyance.

Glancing between Skye and Ward, she cast a brief eye on the hall behind them, before she stated hurriedly, "You two have got ten minutes for me to turn a blind eye."

Ward narrowed his eyes, widening his stance and folding his arms across his chest. "What are you saying, May?"

Rolling her eyes in obvious irritation, May stared at Ward, her eyes widening ever so slightly to convey her point.

"I'm saying, for the next ten minutes, and ten minutes only," May ground out, eyes flicking to Skye, "I may not see everything that goes on around here and, if someone were to take advantage of that fact, I'd be none the wiser."

Realisation dawning finally, Skye flashed the woman a rather shaky smile, before she nodded her head. Without another word, May turned on her heel and strode back down the corridor, her head bowed and shoulders slumped as though she bore the weight of the world upon her slight frame.

"You can't..." Simmons whispered, her tone growing fearful as she grasped at Skye's hand, "Daisy, think about what you're doing here."

"I have," Skye muttered, glancing at Ward and holding out her free hand for him to clasp in his own, "we have to do this, Simmons. I can't let all those people be arrested and confined to some S.H.I.E.L.D. prison on a rock in the middle of nowhere if I can prevent it."

Simmons watched with growing anxiety as Ward clasped her hand without a seconds thought, and the gesture seemed to make Skye stand taller.

"We need to be armed," Skye directed, glancing pointedly at Fitz, who bobbed his head in understanding.

"I'll see what I can sneak out of the armoury and meet you at the quin jet," Fitz supplied, casting Simmons a questioning glance that dared her to contemplate joining them.

Taking a moment to appraise the situation, the biochemist stared at Skye and Ward, noting their clasped hands and the comfort they so clearly took in each other's presence.

"Fitz, I'm coming with you," Jemma said fearfully, sucking in a steadying breath as she gazed back at Fitz and said softly, "I won't let you do this alone."

"Okay... Uh... Great," Fitz stammered, a strangely dopey smile settling on his face. His eyes widened as Jemma reached out towards him with a shaking hand, her fingertips searching out his hand.

"Let's go," Fitz commanded, feeling a little more sure of himself as he held Jemma's hand tightly in his own, and he even cast a vaguely commanding gaze over Skye and Ward, who hadn't failed to see the significance in Jemma's actions.

"Thank you, both of you," Skye replied, quickly hugging both of her friends in turn before she and Ward disappeared down the hallway, and prepared to 'borrow' one of the S.H.I.E.L.D. jets.

x-x-x

The flight was undertaken in perfect silence, Ward occupying the pilot's seat and Skye seated by his side, her leg bouncing repeatedly up and down in a show of nervousness. Every so often, Skye felt Ward's gaze upon her, concerned and loving, but she refrained from commenting on as much. Instead, she kept her eyes locked on the clouds, and her thoughts on the fifty or so Inhumans that were relying on her to be their voice.

No matter how far gone Coulson was - no matter how much he had thrown his lot in with President Ellis - Skye had to believe that the man she had known was still in there somewhere; the man who had held her when she cried, made her grilled cheese when she was sick, and taunted her about the pop music on her i-pod.

When the jet finally touched down in a field adjacent to the woodlands, still cloaked for their own protection, Skye was at the door before Ward had unbuckled his seatbelt. Although she had insisted on them being armed to make the trip, it was with obvious reluctance that she fitted weapons into the holsters adorning her uniform, and Ward could tell that she was merely one more shock away from breaking completely.

"Let's go," Ward muttered when they had ensured that the jet was secure and opened the door. Hand in hand, they stepped onto the landing site, their eyes immediately sweeping the area for any signs of S.H.I.E.L.D. or their targets.

"Do you think we're too late?" Skye inquired, fear colouring her tone as she contemplated the idea of men and women being hauled away to prisons to serve time for decisions they had made whilst in the grip of terror.

"No, they can't have more than a twenty minute head start on us," Ward replied quietly, picking his way through the long grass with his Icer drawn in readiness. It took only minutes for them to reach the edge of the woods, and not much longer for them to find themselves in the thick of tall, majestic oak trees.

They continued to advance in silence, reluctant to give away their presence to the S.H.I.E.L.D. teams before truly necessary, and so when her foot landed on something that yielded beneath it with a loud crunch, Skye leapt several inches into the air.

Shooting a glance at his girlfriend to ensure her well-being first, Ward then stooped onto one knee in order to retrieve the object that Skye had unwittingly crushed underfoot. He rose to his feet somewhat shakily, the ruined toy truck resting in pieces in his palm.

"There... There are children here?" Skye gasped, her hand drifting to cover her mouth, "Coulson said just men and a handful of women. He never mentioned... He never said..."

"I'm guessing there's a lot Coulson hasn't said," Ward said gravely, tossing the broken toy down onto the ground and suddenly reaching out to place his hand on Skye's arm, halting her tracks. "Wait... You smell that?"

Skye inhaled the air around them, the cool breeze carrying with it the unmistakable stench of smoke.

"Something's on fire..." she stated, eyes wide with concern.

The two broke out into a run, dashing through the trees and into a clearing side by side, Icers drawn in readiness. They came to a stop before a makeshift camp, where a few tents and old log cabins made up the tiny settlement.

A strangled gasp flew from Skye's lips, and her head whipped around as she took in the scene before her with a building sense of rage. A wave of nausea washed over her, and she felt angry tears prick at her eyes as she gazed at the fallen bodies of the Inhumans littering the camp. Men and women lay prone and dead on the ground, some with weapons clasped in their cooling hands, others huddled together as if seeking solace and protection.

"What have they done?" Skye whispered frantically, tears spilling from her eyes as she suddenly found her emotions converging into a deep, unyielding rage.

Ward reached out to grasp her arm, but his fingers brushed past her without finding purchase as her weapon clattered from her hand to the ground, and Skye dropped to her knees. She bent over the piles of leaves and heaved, her body shaking as she vomited the content of her stomach onto the forest floor with Ward holding onto her hair and wordlessly rubbing her back.

When finally nothing but bile and saliva stung the back of her aching throat, Skye sat back on her heels, leaning against Ward as he provided her with a temporary respite.

"Better?" he asked softly, brushing hair away from her sweat drenched forehead and planting a soft kiss on her cheek. He felt her tears splash against his own skin before he saw them, and he struggled to lock down his own emotions, finding it possible only by refusing to look around the clearing again at the site of the massacre.

"This will never be better," Skye wept, her voice bitter as she turned around and fisted the fabric of Ward's bullet proof vest as she succumbed to tears. He stroked her back and then her hair, whispering soothing words in her ear, but finding that her silent sobs could not be ended.

"Skye, baby, we can't stay out here in the open," Ward murmured into the shell of her ear, his eyes flitting around the area against his better judgement as he attempted to ignore the scores of bodies strewn on the ground and instead check for any signs of remaining S.H.I.E.L.D. or government operatives.

Nodding in understanding, Skye climbed to her feet, extending a hand as Ward stood beside her. She brushed hurriedly at her eyes, before once again regaining her senses.

"We need to look around. Find out what really happened here."

Ward scanned the clearing, noting the twenty or so bodies with a lump in his throat. A plume of smoke rose from one of the cabins, as the windows cracked with the ferocity of the flames licking at the walls.

The fire hissed and crackled furiously, but Skye soon picked up another noise that rose above the roar of the flames.

"Ward! Over there!" she directed, pointing to a blonde haired woman whose hand reached blindly across the ground, her pained moans barely reaching the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents' ears. "She's alive!"

The couple raced to cover the blood slicked ground, both sliding as their boots met rotted leaves and mud. They dropped down at the woman's side as soon as they reached her, and Skye's hand shot out to stem the flow of blood from a gaping wound in her abdomen. Her fingers were immediately covered with sticky, hot, crimson liquid, and Skye almost blanched, but instead she managed to force herself to flash the woman a reassuring smile.

"Hey, hey, look at me," she commanded, tone ringing authoritatively, "keep your eyes on my face and listen to my voice. You're going to be okay."

"Jamie..." the woman groaned, ignoring Ward as he attempted to shush her, whilst surveying her wounds quickly in an attempt to gauge how best to help her. The bullet wound he noted in her shoulder was perhaps the least of their worries, as he noticed how the wide, ugly gash in her stomach was leaking blood at a rather alarming rate despite Skye's best efforts. Although the woman was alive for the moment, Grant was not hopeful.

"Who's Jamie?" he pressed, deciding that it was perhaps best to extract as much information as possible from the Inhuman if her fate had already been decided by a higher power. Whilst it was unlikely they could help her, and they were certainly too late to help those lying face down on the forest floor, there was perhaps still hope for the Inhumans that S.H.I.E.L.D. had removed from the scene.

"Son... My son..." the woman hissed, grunting against obvious pain and letting out a low cry that brought fresh tears to Skye's eyes. However, instead of allowing them to fall, she reached out a surprisingly steady hand and brushed the woman's hair away from her face.

"It's okay, we'll find him and make sure he's just fine," Ward soothed, tentatively picking up one of the woman's hands and grasping it to his chest. He swallowed hard at the iciness of her skin, which was undoubtedly not a good sign.

"They... Took him..." the woman muttered on the back of laboured breaths, beginning to cry as fear got the better of her, "I tried... To pro... Protect him... Soldiers..."

"The soldiers came," Skye finished, nodding her head and shooting a significant glance at Ward.

"Do you know why they came?" Ward inquired, gently jostling the woman's arm in order to keep her awake. "Did they say what they wanted?"

The woman winced, clenching her teeth as she tried to speak against the agony assaulting her body.

"They... They wanted us to go with them... C... Camps," she muttered, her eyes rolling back in her head.

Ward watched as her mouth opened and her teeth appeared to be stained crimson, and with a horrific, gurgling cough, she let out a wheeze. A spray of bright red blood and dark stained clots filled the air.

Skye gasped in shock, wiping at her cheek with a trembling hand as blood spattered against her skin.

"Camps? What camps?" Skye asked desperately, clasping the woman's hand and squeezing it tightly to try to usher a response.

Ward placed his hand over hers, stilling her movements as he shook his head and indicated that it was too late. Eyes wide, Skye sat back for a moment, allowing him time to reach out and wipe a smear of blood from her cheek with the pad of his thumb.

Her face had paled significantly and her body trembled, signifying perhaps that she had gone into shock - tipped over the emotional edge by the scenes or horrific bloodshed she had witnessed. Ward remained silent, knowing that she needed distance and quiet to ground herself, but his hand hovered over her knee nonetheless. He diverted his attention from her for only a moment, just long enough to close the blonde Inhuman's open eyes, giving her the illusion of peace in a death that had contained anything but.

"Survivors..." Skye muttered, shaking her head and suddenly springing to her feet, seeming to forget the blood staining her hands as she raked them through her hair. Black tresses became streaked with stark red, and Ward rose to his feet slowly in order to approach his girlfriend, who appeared to be falling apart at the seams.

"We have to..." Skye stated firmly, gesturing to the cabins, "there has to be more... More people... We can't leave them, Grant... They're my responsibility."

She took off into a run without warning, tearing towards the cabins despite Ward calling her name over and over, his worry causing his voice to crack. Ignoring the cabin that burned steadily in the background, Skye lifted the flap of each tent as she passed by, searching in sheer desperation for more Inhumans - those she could possibly bring home.

"Skye, there's nobody left!" Ward yelled, momentarily forgetting the need for secrecy as he watched Skye rushing from one location to another, poking her head inside abandoned tents and throwing open cabin doors as she undertook her fruitless mission.

Letting out a shriek of pure despair, Skye felt her fists clench at her side, a surge of power sweeping across her body that demanded an outlet. Holding out her hand, she propelled a surge of energy across the clearing, and almost immediately a low rumble began to reverberate around the trees. A tidal wave of dirt and twisted tree branches swept across the horizon. Trees bowed and tilted, some shattering and splintering into fragments, many that had been alive long before any humans had made the place their own.

"Skye!" Ward called out, his eyes wide as the ground shook beneath his feet and he scrambled to reach her side in time to clasp her hands in his, and draw her shaking arms down to her sides.

"Skye... Baby, come on..." he tried desperately, "look at me!"

Finally lifting her gaze to his, Skye swallowed hard, still trembling as she allowed him to wrap his arms around her. Scanning the encampment one final time, her eyes settling on an abandoned baby doll, Skye closed her eyes and leant her head on his shoulder.

"Take me home."

x-x-x

The quin jet had barely landed in the hangar and Skye was already sweeping through the corridors of the Playground, a force to be reckoned with that not a single agent that stepped into her path was brave enough to challenge.

She looked horrendous; blood streaked her hair and face, her uniform was torn in places where it had been snarled by tree branches, and her jaw was set in stony determination. The tears had dried on her cheeks, mingling with the dirt and blood, and her brown eyes, usually such an ocean of calm, were so wild and turbulent that Ward was genuinely afraid that she was in danger of losing herself.

He chased after her, hot on her heels but still failing to keep up with her as she strode into the cafeteria, her hands spread out at her sides and her head hung low.

Bobbi barely had time to register Skye's presence from where she sat, perched on the edge of a round table as she laughed and held court with a handful of agents on their lunch break. Her smile faded as she took in Skye's appearance and the expression of unadulterated rage contorting her usually gentle features, but she failed to react in time when Skye gripped the edge of the table and flipped it over with brute strength alone. Bobbi fell to the floor, rolling quickly to one side before she sprang to her feet, wheeling around to glare at Skye.

"Have you lost your fucking mind?" Bobbi demanded, her gaze shooting to the agents she had been speaking with only seconds before, all of whom were standing and staring at the unfolding scene, uncertain of how to react.

Hunter strode forwards, about to intervene in the fray, but not noticing that he passed Ward as he hurried towards his ex-wife. Catching the approaching mercenary out of the corner of his eye, Ward extended his arm with considerable force, driving his elbow into Hunter's throat until the shorter man found himself sprawled unceremoniously on the ground.

"If you touch her, I'll kill you," Ward spat, his hand enclosing around Lance's throat as he spluttered and gasped for air. Loosening his grip somewhat, Ward held up his other hand enough to allow Lance to see the slither of smoke beginning to ebb from the Inhuman's skin; a warning that his next move might well prove to be his last.

"Get off me, you bloody freak," Hunter snarled, wheezing as he attempted to sit up and relieve the pressure on his wind-pipe.

Whispers rose up around the cafeteria as agents debated the appropriate reactions, but none seemed motivated enough to intervene in the fight and risk getting on the bad sides of either of the infamous Inhumans.

"You bitch," Skye snarled, her lips curling backwards as she advanced on Bobbi, who took a step backwards with her hands raised in a defensive gesture.

"If you take one more step closer, I will put you on your ass, Daisy," Bobbi warned, her eyes narrowing dangerously as she watched Skye continue to approach, apparently deciding not to heed her warning.

"You killed them," Skye accused, almost as though Bobbi's words were falling on deaf ears. Her rage had all but consumed her, and she raised an arm, fingers twitching as she debated whether or not to unleash her powers on the Specialist.

"Who?" Bobbi demanded, genuine confusion clouding her eyes as she stared at first Skye and then Ward, who still held Hunter pinned to the ground. "Ward... Let him up or..."

"You'll what? Kill him too?" Skye spat, flicking a finger ever so slightly and sending a minor jolt of power in Bobbi's direction. The Specialist barely stumbled under the force, but her eyes widened as she realised that Skye had only fired a warning shot.

"What are you talking about? This is crazy," Bobbi protested, her hands seizing the batons she kept tucked into her belt. She racked them quickly, quirking a brow at Skye and offering her a smirk as though she dared her to try her luck in hand to hand.

"You know who! Men, women... Children. Where did you take them?" Skye demanded, ignoring the defensive posture Bobbi adopted, as she spun the batons between her fingers and advanced towards the younger woman.

"Oh, please..." Skye narrowed her eyes, barely flicking her wrist to unleash enough power to send both metal batons up towards the ceiling, where they became embedded into the plaster. "Now, tell me what you did to them... I know it was you. I know it was you and Hunter who took Chase. Were you just blindly following orders, Bobbi... Or did you enjoy it?!"

Bobbi glared evenly at the young Inhuman, "You think you're so special because your mom was a freak? Just like you... Just like him..." She nodded over towards Ward, "I don't have to explain myself to you, Daisy. Whatever I've done, I've done because it's the right thing to do... And don't you dare expect me to be sorry."

Skye scoffed, tilting her head as she glared icily at the Specialist. "That would imply you had a conscience..."

"Oh, I have a conscience, alright," Bobbi retorted, her voice dripping with ill-concealed venom as she continued, "when it comes to actual people."

Daisy blinked, momentarily taken aback by Bobbi's viciousness, but she was not so stunned that she failed to see the fist that Mockingbird swung in her direction. This time, deciding that her retaliation would be purely human, Skye seized the woman's fist, twisted her arm quickly up and behind her back, and slammed her face first into the floor. Bobbi kicked out behind her with one leg, attempting to sweep Skye off her feet, but she had anticipated the move and simply sidestepped the blow.

When Bobbi sprang back to her feet, blood was trickling from her lip, and she wiped at it gingerly with the back of one hand.

"When I find out the part you had to play in all this, you better pray that I am feeling merciful," Skye hissed, advancing on the Specialist until they were almost nose to nose. Bobbi glared down at the shorter woman, not an ounce of fear present on her face, simply pure, unadulterated rage.

"Oh sweetie," Bobbi chuckled, eyes roving Skye's body from head to toe as though she were appraising her and somehow finding her lacking at the same time, "you're in way over your twisted, mutated little head."

Skye glared at Bobbi, her jaw tensed and her hands balled into fists at her side as Mockingbird only leaned in closer, pushing their faces together.

Her voice dropping to a barely audible whisper, Bobbi continued, "I cannot wait to see you strapped to a gurney, getting yours, courtesy of S.H.I.E.L.D. We will take you apart, piece by piece, and I am going to enjoy watching it. Hell, maybe I'll even help..."

Nodding her head slightly, her eyes drifting down to the ground, without warning Skye rammed her head into Bobbi's in a vicious move that made even Ward wince.

Breathing heavily, Skye watched with a building sense of pleasure as Mockingbird reared back, reaching out blindly for the edge of the table as she tumbled to the floor, a gush of bright red beginning to spurt form her nose.

Casting one final, murderous gaze on the groaning blonde, Skye turned on her heel and stormed out of the dining hall, Ward at her side.

The cafeteria fell into silence, nobody willing or inclined to follow after the Inhuman leader. Climbing to her feet, Bobbi wiped a smear of blood from her nose with the back of her hand, and made her way over to Hunter who still sat somewhat winded from his encounter.

Growling angrily, Bobbi shot Hunter a dark look as she hissed, "We need to see Coulson... She knows."


	8. In The Sunlit Dawn, If We're Lucky Maybe God Might Call

_**In The Sunlit Dawn, If We** _ _**'re Lucky Maybe God Might Call** _

Skye had taken refuge in her bedroom, closing the door tight and refusing to let anyone in, even Ward, who had sat out in the corridor for over an hour just trying to coax her to let him inside. She had disabled the door lock from her end to prevent anyone from bypassing it in the hallway, and although she knew that Ward was frantic with concern for her, she needed to be alone, if just for a while. She couldn't shake the all consuming fear that she had failed her people, and that every last drop of blood that had been shed was on her hands. She needed time to think, and to decide just how far she was willing to go in the name of defending the Inhumans from the threat that had now arisen. She had never dreamed, however, that that threat might come from her home, and from the people she had loved as though they were family.

Lying in the centre of her bed, still fully clothed in her tac gear, and with her head throbbing relentlessly from head butting Bobbi, Skye simply stared up at the ceiling. Ward had abandoned his post a half hour ago, promising that he would be back in due course, no doubt when worry got the better of him again. When the door to her room let out an unfamiliar bleeping sound and slid open, Skye half expected to see her boyfriend standing there, perhaps flanked by FitzSimmons, who could no doubt find a way to override her lock if only asked. However, when she turned her head to the doorway, instead she saw Coulson, walking towards her with a curiously blank expression in place. In his robotic hand, he clutched an object that Skye was unable to discern in the fading light, but she sat up quickly nonetheless and drew her knees into her chest in a protective gesture.

Her lip curled back in disgust and she glared at Coulson with actual venom. Unfortunately, when she attempted to speak, she found her throat obstructed by a sudden lump and her eyes beginning to leak treacherous tears. She had wanted to convey only anger, refusing to be seen as weak by the director given recent events, but instead it appeared that she couldn't hold herself together long enough.

"Chocolate," Coulson stated, his voice gentle, the way Skye remembered. He offered her the mystery object, and she realised as she squinted at it in the darkness that it was a family size bar of Hersheys Cookies and Cream - her favourite, and certainly one of her go to comfort foods.

"Okay, so... Not what I was expecting," she drawled uncertainly, pressing her back against the headboard. The idea that she was wrong, that the man she had come to love as her father had not turned his back on her or her kind was almost too much to hope for; the urge to throw her arms around his neck and wait out the logical and obvious explanation was overwhelming.

Coulson sighed heavily, sitting on the edge of her bed as he deliberated over what to say next.

"You can't act like that, Daisy. You're a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, you're a leader now. People expect better from you. I expect better from you."

Remaining silent, Skye couldn't quite bring herself to apologise, particularly given the horrific and damning evidence they had unearthed that day. Memories of the woman dying at her feet would not be erased so easily from Skye's mind.

"Right back atcha, D.C.," she stated sadly, her half smile only conveying her bitter disappointment in the man before her.

Coulson placed the chocolate onto the night stand, planting his hands on his knees as he steadied himself and appeared strangely uneasy in her company - something Skye almost immediately picked up on.

"I don't like how much time you're spending with Ward," he stated flatly, "I think it's effecting your judgement."

Skye rolled her eyes, "How about we leave Ward out of this? Maybe I just don't like being lied to."

Coulson blinked rapidly, appearing confused as he stared at Skye for several, long seconds, before seating himself on the chair in the corner of the room.

"What exactly do you think I've lied about, Skye?" Coulson inquired, cocking his head as he observed his agent, who shrugged in an uncomfortable manner.

"Oh I don't know, just everything," Skye flung back at him, only somewhat remorseful when Coulson appeared wounded, his lips turning downwards into a frown that lined his face with wrinkles.

"You need to elaborate a little more, Daisy, if you want us to get this straightened out," Coulson said, shifting the chair closer to Skye's bedside and peering intently at her.

"Okay, let's start with Chase and Molly," Skye snapped, straightening up and glaring at the director. She didn't miss the faint tick in his jaw, nor the way his eyes flitted momentarily to the left, both sure signs that not all was as Coulson would have it seem.

"I don't know anything about Chase, other than the information I've pieced together from talking to people who have been close to Molly. I have no idea where he is," Coulson said firmly, adding quietly, "and as for Molly, everything I told you was the truth. We brought her in because she wounded FBI agents when the government tried to do the same. President Ellis came to me because he knows S.H.I.E.L.D. is somewhat of an authority in this area."

"Where is she now then, huh?" Skye demanded, refusing to be cowed by Coulson, "what did they do with her?"

"She's at a classified location, receiving the best training and care that the government can give her," Coulson said assuredly, reaching out for Skye's hand and finding that she withdrew it quickly from his reach so that his fingers only just brushed her palm.

"And the Inhumans we saw today? The ones Bobbi and Hunter murdered, on your orders?" Skye snarled, her hands clenching into fists as fury racked her body.

Coulson licked his lips, as if he were about to impart information to Daisy that he was loathed to part with. Raising his head so he could meet her gaze, he stated carefully, "The strike team were told to use terminal force only if necessary. Whatever happened out there, they were defending themselves from a violent and unprovoked attack. Now... I regret that there was a loss of life, but..."

"Loss of life?" Skye asked incredulously, her eyes widening as she shook her head as if not quite believing his wording. "You mean the massacre? The massacre carried out by S.H.I.E.L.D., under your orders. You said Ward was a cold-blooded murderer, but that's exactly what you've become..."

She stood up, suddenly finding that she needed to be as far away from him as possible. "There were women and children; powerless, unarmed civilians. How could you? _How could you_?" Her skin practically crawled with revulsion, and even looking at her former mentor was making her feel physically sick.

"Daisy, let me explain," he began, apparently having given up on his self-righteous stance, and not even bothering to appear troubled by his own actions. Actions that had cost the lives of countless innocent people, in an event that was possibly only the beginning of his campaign against the Inhuman population.

"You need to go," Skye said quietly, opening the door to her room and waiting for him to stand up from the edge of her bed, "unless you want to tell me about the camp?!"

Receiving no reply, Skye added bitterly, "No. Didn't think so."

"I am sorry that you're upset, Daisy," Coulson stated, holding out his hands in a placating gesture. "You're one of my best agents, and it saddens me that you can't get on board with this."

"Get on board with my people being slaughtered?" Skye practically yelped, shaking her head at the absurdity of the notion.

"I am not talking about unwarranted murder here," Coulson retorted, his patience obviously beginning to fray as he glared at Skye, who met his stare with an icy one of her own. "This new alliance with the government is not just for the benefit of S.H.I.E.L.D. but for the world. There are people out there with abilities... Destructive, dangerous abilities, and we take a lot on faith if we just let them walk around freely in the world without precautions being put in place. We cannot rely on the good graces of monsters for the protection of our world."

"Monsters..." Skye repeated, the word tasting bitten in her mouth. She found that her voice was surprisingly broken, and her heart almost stilled in her chest as she pressed, "Is that what you think I am, Coulson?"

Coulson frowned, shaking his head, almost tripping over his own tongue as he rushed to add, "No, not you, Daisy. You've proven yourself as an asset. But we cannot deny the very real danger that Inhumans could rise up against us en masse, and they would have the perfect weapons with which to do so literally at their fingertips. Hell, most of them _are_ weapons."

"I can't believe what I'm hearing," Skye whispered, wiping angrily at the tears that streamed from her eyes suddenly. "You're just going to presume that every single one of us is evil?"

Coulson sighed, moving back towards the doorway as though he sensed the conversation was no longer able to lead anywhere constructive.

"We just want people with abilities to receive the proper training, psych. evaluations, and monitoring, but on a larger and more organised scale than the Index alone can offer," Coulson explained, "you're a leader, you have to understand where President Ellis is coming from, and after everything I have lost at the hands of these... Beings... Agent Triplet, Agent Hartley, my arm... Rosalind... Well, enough is enough, Daisy."

Feeling completely numbed, Skye simply stared after the director, doing her best to reign in the bone crushing sadness that she could feel ravaging her body.

Reaching the doorway, Coulson leaned on the frame, his eyes ticking to the security pad and then back to Skye.

"Don't override your lock again, Agent," he stated, "that's an order."

Skye stared at him dumbly, words failing her. An icy coldness overcame her, snaking down the length of her spine, and she shuddered.

"Also, although it pains me to do this, Skye, I can't let the incident with Morse go unpunished," Coulson continued, looking ruefully at the young woman as he finished, "Bobbi is a good agent and she was acting under orders in a bad situation. You attacked her without provocation..."

"I don't care," Skye interjected, her voice ragged and harsh to her own ears, but reflecting just a fraction of the growing hatred she felt for the Mockingbird and all she stood for.

"Well, you should," Coulson countered, straightening up as the words left his lips, "you almost broke her nose. I'm suspending you from active duty for a week and... Well, if you can't learn to get along with your team mates, you better believe that I have no problem in confining you to your room for the duration."

Skye was silent for only a moment, reeling from the conversation she'd had with her one time friend. Is that what he would do to her? To her children? The idea was utterly unimaginable.

"Maybe I don't want to be a part of this team any more."

"What are you saying, Agent Johnson?" Coulson demanded, growing increasingly weary and exasperated with their current conversation. As S.H.I.E.L.D. director, he wouldn't tolerate such open opposition from one of his agents.

"I don't know... I..." she brushed away the errant tear that escaped her with an angry flourish. Suddenly realising just how much danger she and her friends were in, Skye feigned a weak and slightly repentant smile - something she'd perfected as a rambunctious child in the orphanage.

"I just need some time to think. Maybe... Maybe it'll all look different in the morning?!" she tried, satisfied when he smiled in reply and nodded his head.

"You're vital to my team, Daisy. I don't want to lose you," he answered, offering a kind smile that she had once loved and derived comfort from. "Get some sleep, huh? We'll talk again in the morning."

Nodding in agreement, Skye hugged her arms around herself, adding quietly, "Thanks for the chocolate."

"No problem," Coulson replied, seeming pleased by her sudden change of heart and the way the anger appeared to be melting away from her features. Chuckling, he added, "Don't eat it all at once."

He disappeared out of the doorway and Skye collapsed on her bed, lying on her stomach in order to press her face into the comforter. She pounded her balled up fists angrily onto the mattress, her body shaking with a mixture of rage, sorrow and inexplicable fear. She found suddenly that she wanted Ward - needed him next to her, touching her, in order to ground herself.

Gathering her emotions, carefully shelving them as she had been taught by May so many months ago, Skye scrubbed at her face with the edge of the comforter until no traces of her spent tears remained. She sucked in some deep breaths, which were unsteady and noisy at first, but she carried on breathing until her body no longer trembled and her chest rose and fell evenly. Once satisfied that she would appear nothing but collected to anyone she encountered in the hallway, Skye strode out of her bedroom, and set out along the corridor to find Ward.

They had a lot to discuss.

x-x-x

Although Skye longed to be curled up in Grant's arms, pressed up against his chest, where the world didn't seem such a scary or foreboding place, she refused to allow herself such peace. Complacency could get them killed - of that she was now sure. Instead, she paced the room, up and down, completely relentless in the action, whilst Ward watched her from his perch on the chair adjacent to his bed.

"We need to get a message to Fitz and Simmons," Skye mused, beginning to chew on her thumbnail as her mind ran through everything that needed to be done before they could leave.

"What if Simmons won't come?" Ward inquired, his tone sounding genuinely concerned at the prospect. "If she still believes there's good in S.H.I.E.L.D., there's no way she'll be on board with this."

"Fitz can convince her," Skye stated confidently, catching the dubious expression that passed Ward's features, as she added, "she loves him... And that's more important than all of this... Right?"

Easily catching the double meaning behind her words, Ward nodded, standing from his seat and crossing the room to capture her in his arms.

"It's... The _only_ thing that matters," he said softly, drawing her into his chest and wrapping his arms around her as she rested her head against his shoulder and allowed herself a brief moment of comfort. In every life he had lived and every path he had taken, he had realised one thing was true; love was the only real motivation there was.

"Finish packing," Skye directed, kissing him quickly before she forced herself to tear herself from his arms to examine her laptop and check the progress of her hack programme. "We need to be ready to leave as soon as this thing breaks in."

Skye had already packed, stowing her crammed hold-all under Ward's bed before she had taken solace in his room. Not all of her possessions had been taken, so as to not alert anyone to their impending escape, should they examine her room. After her confrontation with Coulson, she wouldn't put it past the man to put her under some sort of surveillance, at least until her suspension ended.

"Done!" Ward stated, tugging the zip on his identical black kit bag closed, before bundling it under the bed next to hers. Skye heard the unmistakable sound of a gun being loaded, and when she glanced up she found Ward arming himself to the hilt - a handgun in the waistband of his jeans, and another strapped to a holster at his ankle. He added a selection of knives and small blades to his sleeves, boots, and pockets, sending a wave of unease rolling in the pit of Skye's stomach.

"I'm not taking any chances, baby," he stated, catching her worried gaze. Powers or not, Ward wanted to be prepared for any and all eventualities. "If S.H.I.E.L.D. wants a fight, they're gonna get one."

x-x-x

Coulson paused, indecision flickering across his features as he stared at the phone cradled in his hand. He was doing the right thing, wasn't he? The question hammered relentlessly at his mind, demanding an answer that he was suddenly uncertain he was qualified to give.

His next move would no doubt shape the future, and be the deciding factor in whether Daisy stood with him through choice, or disappeared from his life altogether. He was certain, at least, that he couldn't allow the latter to happen; he genuinely cared for the young woman, like a daughter he believed, and he only wanted a better future for her - one that would allow her to be lifted of the burden of her powers, should she choose. And, all paternal feelings for Daisy aside, the fate of the world was potentially resting on all of their shoulders, and there was no way he could watch the planet burn at the hands of dangerous alien hybrids without knowing that he had done everything in his power to prevent it first.

Yes, he was making the right call.

Daisy had grown reckless and defiant, sullen and questioning when it came to S.H.I.E.L.D.'s agenda, and those changes had happened gradually over the last few months. Coulson was so certain of the catalyst that he'd stake his own life on it, and it was time to squash the voice whispering in Daisy's ear once and for all. In the bargain, possibly one of the most deadly Inhumans to walk the Earth would be neutralised, and that could only be in the best interests of everyone.

Lifting his phone to his ear, he waited for the call to connect before he relayed his name and a code word that almost instantly had him transferred to another line.

"It's Coulson," he revealed, taking a steadying breath. It was for the best, Daisy would see that one day.

"I need to call in that favour..." he demanded, listening for the responding voice of the CIA director, who very quickly bowed to his S.H.I.E.L.D. counterpart's ask. "Three of your best men, four if you can spare them. I'm talking trained assassins, not field agents."

Glancing down somewhat regretfully at his robotic hand, he flexed the fingers of the mechanical appendage and pondered on the events of the last year with a building sense of irritation.

"I need someone crossed off. I'll send the file over a secure channel. This needs to be done quickly and quietly."

He nodded as he listened to the CIA director's promise of a swift outcome.

"Good. I want it done tonight. I'll arrange for base clearance for your men. Get them in, then get them out. I won't take responsibility for any casualties. Their mark is dangerous... Far more dangerous than anything they'll have encountered before."

The somewhat stilted conversation lasted only seconds longer, and as Coulson stabbed the disconnect button, he placed the cell phone back onto his desk with a deep, uneasy sigh drifting from his lips.

His eyes ticked to the surface of his desk, where the frame of his Captain America trading card now lay in pieces, the wood ripped completely apart by the strength of his robotic fingers.

Next to it - the crushed remnants of the bug he had discovered nestling there.

x-x-x

Outside the door, May was frozen in place, having been privy to the entire seedy conversation. With a determined set to her jaw, her eyes shone with anger and dogged determination; she instantly realised the target for Coulson's latest underhanded operation.

Without a moment to lose, the infamous Cavalry strode down the hall towards the armoury and slipped into the darkness the shadows provided.


	9. There's Nothing Left But The Lipstick On My Lips

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, due to SlightlyTwistedSilverware going away on holiday tomorrow, this fic will be on a little hiatus for the next week. We promise we'll get back to updating as soon as we can, and thank you in advance for your patience. :)
> 
> In the meantime, if you want to read something far, far naughtier, we have four fics entered into the upcoming Skyeward 2016 Smut Fest. The first will be posted on 4th April, but we warn you, it's pretty damn smutty! :p

_**There** _ _**'s Nothing Left But The Lipstick On My Lips** _

She couldn't sleep, but it was more than the simple bouts of insomnia that sometimes came with the territory of being an agent. This was a combination of gut wrenching fear and white hot anger that could not be stilled, twisting round not only her gut but also her mind, making it impossible to silence her thoughts.

Huffing a sigh, Skye rolled onto her side, grimacing as the waistband of her jeans dug into her flesh. They had elected to sleep fully clothed, no longer knowing when or how they would finally need to leave everything behind. Ward had assured her that they would have at least until the next evening - long enough to complete the hack, obtain the information they needed, book internal flights under aliases, and persuade FitzSimmons to join them. Skye had debated for a long time whether or not to extend the invitation to Agent May, but she knew without a doubt that her former mentor would not leave S.H.I.E.L.D., nor Phil Coulson for that matter, until she had done everything in her power to prevent their descent into darkness.

"You okay, baby?" Ward murmured, his voice sounding thick with sleep as he pressed a kiss to the crown of Skye's head and gripped her tighter.

"Can't sleep," Skye whispered back, her fingers digging into Grant's chest as she sought out the comfort she so desperately needed. He mumbled something unintelligible in response, before shifting her slightly in his arms so that his hand cradled the back of her head.

"You need to rest. It might be a lot harder when..." Ward trailed off, not saying the words he knew still pierced Skye's heart like a dagger. He was far less emotionally attached to S.H.I.E.L.D. than she was, always had been, but he could both understand and respect the heartbreak that Coulson's shifts in loyalty had brought to her.

"I know, it's just every time I close my eyes, I see their faces," Skye said, releasing a shaky breath.

"Guess I don't need to ask who," Ward replied, stroking Skye's hair gently.

"Molly, the woman from the camp... Even my mother," Skye hissed, sighing as she pressed a shaking hand to her eyes and rubbed at them tiredly. "Her voice is in my head, Ward. Saying I failed, that I let this happen."

"You know that's not true," Ward countered instantly, nuzzling her cheek and pressing a kiss to her soft skin as he hugged her for reassurance.

"My mom was a monster," she said bitterly, "she lost herself to anger and pain... Because someone took away everything she ever loved. And now I've let the same thing happen to Molly and Chase."

"We'll find them, I promise," he whispered, feeling her cling tighter to him, her arms encircling his waist as he stroked the back of her hair and tried his best to ease her fears. He knew no matter what he said, Skye would hold herself responsible, even though the evil that had befallen the young couple had been entirely out of her control.

"What if it's too late?" Skye asked fearfully, "we know the government doesn't want Inhumans reproducing. Lincoln told Jemma that the kindest thing would be for Molly to get an abortion. What if they've taken that choice away from her?!"

Ward didn't reply, he pulled her closer instead and buried his lips in her neck, kissing her warm skin more out of a desire to comfort than arouse. Skye sighed, stroking her fingers through his hair as she clung to him, revelling in the fact every inch of her body was pressed against his.

Suddenly stilling, Ward sat up, reaching out in the darkness and placing his fingertips against Skye's lips as she peered at him in confusion.

"There's people outside," he whispered against her ear, "get up, baby... Quietly."

Blood running cold in her veins, Skye rose to her feet as rapidly but silently as possible, beginning to move around the bed towards the closet in which she knew Ward stored a surplus handgun. However, she had barely covered two steps when the door swung open, and three figures stepped inside.

The darkness was somewhat debilitating, but when she saw the first of the three men raise a weapon in Ward's direction, she threw her hand up without a second thought. The bullet left the gun with just a dulled whine, and Skye realised the presence of a silencer on the nozzle of the weapon. Whoever was attacking certainly seemed to want to do so in secret, without drawing attention from anyone else in the neighbouring rooms.

The bullet stopped in mid-air, at least a foot from Ward's heart, and Skye flicked a finger in order to spin it round and send it whistling at speed back in the direction from which it had come from. The first agent fell down like a sack of bricks, the bullet lodged in his forehead. The gun tumbled from his fingers but neither of the other agents stooped to pick it up, suggesting that they were either secure enough in their skills to go on without the weapon, or that they had no idea who they were dealing with.

The second man leapt across the bed, flinging himself in Skye's direction. She managed to block his punch in the darkness, before delivering her knee into his abdomen, although he pulled slightly out of the move at the last second, meaning it caused less hindrance to him than Skye had intended. She hazarded a glance at Ward, who was engaged in hand to hand combat with the third and final agent, blocking each move as it came. The two men went at each other with unrestrained hostility, although neither managed to land a blow to the other. The fight seemed to be an intricate dance of defensive moves and blocked punches, rather than anything else.

Turning her attention back to the assailant, Skye ducked under the fist he swung at her and twirled around to place herself behind him. Before he could spin around to meet her again with another heavy blow, she seized his right arm and yanked it upwards, wrenching his shoulder from the socket. He let out a cry that was barely audible, but Skye was satisfied by having caused him even a degree of pain nonetheless.

He managed to break her hold quicker than she had anticipated, and she found herself pressed up against the wardrobe, held in place by an arm resting over her collar bone.

"It's him we want, stand down, Miss," the man grunted, managing to block the knee Skye aimed at his groin by raising his own leg and twisting his body to the side.

"Skye!" Ward shouted, hearing the commencing struggle and trying desperately to get the better of his attacker so he could come to her aid.

"Let her go!" A famliar voice commanded, and Skye's eyes searched blindly behind the assailant, as the man was suddenly seized around the neck, the barrel of what she assumed to be an Icer pressed to the back of his head. "I said, let her go!"

The man swung around suddenly, attempting to knock the gun from May's hand, but the older woman read his moves far too easily, and with three swift kicks and punches, the CIA operative fell to the ground.

"Who the hell are you?" he gasped, standing up and blinking against the darkness as he failed to spot his assailant in the unlit room.

Skye couldn't help but smile as May replied curtly, "The god damn Cavalry."

"May?" Ward called out in surprise, blocking a punch aimed at his face and retaliating with a vicious series of blows that sent the assailant flying into the closet doors behind him, splintering the wood with the force of his fall.

"Take him down. Daisy and I have got this, right?"

"Absolutely," Skye nodded, watching as Ward advanced on the CIA agent with clear intent, and he cracked his knuckles pointedly as he stepped forward and waited for the man to climb to his feet.

The next punch he threw at Ward struck its mark, landing on Grant's jaw and whipping his head around. However, the man realised his error too late; the blow had only connected because Ward had wanted it to. The move was calculated, but the operative saw as much too late, and Grant was able to grab his fist, twist it around, and use the man's body weight against him in order to spin him so that his chest was pressed against Ward's.

Grant's arm snaked underneath the man's neck and, with a sharp tug to the left, his spinal column was severed. He dropped to the floor, eyes wide but unseeing, and Ward stepped over his body as though it meant nothing; after all, the stranger had broken into his home and attempted to murder him in his sleep - and to Ward, there was no more of a cowardly action than that.

Her eyes narrowed at the agent as May kept him in place with the Icer aimed at his chest, and Skye flung out an arm. The agent attempted to resist at first, swinging fists wildly at May in a vain attempt to disarm her. However, Skye's outstretched hand curled into a fist and she closed her eyes, focusing her powers so intently, in a manor she never had before. She could feel the vibrations of his heart as it beat relentlessly in his chest, and she directed every last ounce of power she had in quickening the rhythm. Harder and harder it pounded, spurred on now not by blood flow but by the vibrations that Skye was able to control. The agent let out a pained gasp, his eyes widening, one hand clutching and clawing at his chest. The blood vessels in his eyes exploded, sending clouds of inky red across his sclera, and he dropped to his knees on the carpet, his features a mask of terror in the dim light.

Skye focused harder, her lips twisting into a grimace as she felt her whole body begin to vibrate with the magnitude of her manipulation. Blood streamed from the man's nose and his mouth fell open, allowing him to rasp out a strangled noise that brought not a sliver of satisfaction to Skye. However, she knew what had to be done; after all, assassins would not rest until their mark had been put down.

With a final, soft cry, Skye squeezed her fist hard, and the agent's heart exploded, sending a jolt of power surging back to Skye that almost knocked her off her feet. She stumbled backwards, saved from a descent to the ground only by May's hand on her arm. As she peered up into the older agent's face, her eyes wild and bearing the shock from what she had just done, May simply shook her head.

"You had no choice," May soothed, shooting a glance at Ward. "They were on kill orders. CIA."

Skye only looked down to her hands, turning them over as she examined them, almost as if she were beginning to question herself, and her actions.

"Coulson?" Ward guessed, and May nodded in silent reply, sighing as Skye slapped her trembling hand over her mouth and choked back a sob.

Placing her hand on Skye's shoulder, May was visibly startled as Skye threw her arms around her neck and hugged her tightly. Freezing for a moment, May let her hand flutter to Skye's back, and she hugged her young trainee with genuine affection.

"Thank you," Skye said quietly, "thank you for helping us."

Ward nodded, shooting her a similarly grateful smile. "Why... Why did you help us?"

May shrugged, as if the answer should be blatantly evident.

"Because I care about Daisy. She's family. And if you die, she's miserable..." she reasoned, adding with a glower, "besides, Coulson's out of control. Someone has to stop him before more innocent people die. I... I've never seen him like this before."

Shooting Ward a significant glance, May gestured for him to step forward, and he quickly obliged, coaxing Skye into his own arms with a hand on her shoulder. She pressed herself flush against him and threw her arms around his neck, feeling her own heart thumping fast.

"You two need to get out of here," May said softly, her eyes ticking to the floor, genuine sorrow crashing across her features. "It's not safe for your kind here any more. I'm so sorry."

"Do you know exactly what's going on, May?" Ward inquired, his tone pleading and gentle as he peered at the other Specialist, who shook her head.

"No, but I intend to find out," she murmured, running one hand through to the ends of her hair, "but I can't do that with you two in the firing line. I need you to get gone, fast. Just disappear."

"This is our fight too, May," Skye replied, her voice still choked with emotion as she seemed unable to tear her eyes away from the body of the second agent she had killed.

"Please, Skye," May implored, stepping forwards and running the back of her hand down Skye's cheek, "I want you to be safe."

Silence dominated the room for several long seconds, but finally Skye nodded her head in agreement, her solemn promise to May that she would leave it all behind, and try not to look back.

"You need to take FitzSimmons with you," May said, her eyes ticking to Ward's face, "I can't protect them, and they know too much. I have no idea how far they're willing to go to keep a lid on whatever they are hiding."

"They?" Skye queried, arching an eyebrow at the concept that there could be more than simply Coulson and the President involved.

"Coulson, Morse, Hunter, Lincoln," May intoned, shaking her head firmly, "as of right now, I don't trust a single damn agent on this base."

Glancing around them at the three fallen CIA operatives, May commanded, "Ward, you and I need to hide the bodies. Skye, go and get FitzSimmons. I've already permanently disabled the tracking device on one of the quin jets. I want the four of you out of here before sunrise."

A beeping sound made all three of them start suddenly, the intensity of the moment leaving them all on edge.

"The hack, it worked!" Skye explained, dashing to retrieve her laptop from underneath the bed. Flipping open the screen, she grabbed a USB stick from the night stand and hurriedly began downloading the decrypted files.

"Ward..." May jarred him, waiting until he'd reached for a light stick and snapped the plastic in two to illuminate their path. "We'll hide them in the generator room. Grab his shoulders, I'll get his legs."

Ripping the memory stick from the drive and jamming it into the pocket of her jeans, Skye paused to shoot a glance at Ward, her heart almost in her mouth as adrenaline began to kick in.

"Meet me at the quin jet, half an hour, no more," Skye stated, her eyes sweeping the bodies, all of which May and Grant were set to temporarily dispose of. The pang of guilt that assailed her was pushed down, and Skye offered her boyfriend a wan smile.

"I'll make sure FitzSimmons are with me," she said, her tone conveying that she would accept nothing less. Nodding, Ward helped May to scoop the first agent up, his hands hooked under the man's ankles whilst May circled hers beneath his armpits.

"Go, we'll be okay," Ward assured her, the smile he offered her as encouraging as he could make it. Without another word, Skye slid out of the room and into the corridor. This time, as she headed for the lab, she broke out into a run, realising that time was truly of the essence.

x-x-x

Fitz had been staring at the same computer screen for the better part of an hour, his tired mind having long ago shut down, especially in the absence of his usual partner. Simmons had retired to her bedroom a while before, unable to keep her eyes open any longer given the limited sleep she had had the previous night, when thoughts of Lincoln and his motives behind the cure had kept her awake long into the wee hours of the morning.

Leaning on his elbow, he yawned loudly, almost slipping as his arm came close to sliding off the edge of the counter. He caught himself just in time, eyes snapping open, letting out a cry of surprise.

"Coffee..." Fitz muttered, shaking himself in order to dispel the vestiges of sleep that were clinging to him and still trying desperately to pull him under. "Lots of coffee."

He stepped away from his stool with the gait of an exhausted man, and it was as he set about filling the coffee pot with water from the sink that Skye rounded the corner and flung herself through the open lab doors, panting as though she had just completed a marathon.

"Fitz... Don't ask questions, okay?! I need you and Jemma to pack... We have to get out of here, tonight."

Suddenly wide awake and more than a little confused, Fitz gaped unintelligibly. "Tonight? What? Daisy... What's happened?"

Her eyes wide and almost wild with an emotion he couldn't quite pinpoint, she shook her head, indicating that they had little time to discuss the details.

"I can't explain right now, Fitz. May... She says we need to get out of here. Coulson sent men to kill Ward... We..."

Fitz's eyes grew as wide as saucers, and his hand shot out to curl around her wrist. "Ward's dead?"

Skye shook her head hurriedly, "No. We... They..."

"Oh," Fitz nodded in understanding, "I see."

He wasn't at all surprised - people seldom went after Grant Ward and lived to tell the tale. And with his Inhuman powers added to his already impressive skill set, the man was the very epitome of deadly.

"Please, Fitz," Skye insisted, seizing his hands and staring imploringly into his eyes, "we have to go."

Fitz frowned, his mind ticking back to the carefully laid plans they had made in recent days, and how they all seemed to have been dashed to smithereens in moments.

"What about your programme?" he interjected, lowering his voice to a hiss as he wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her closer to prevent their conversation being picked up on the cameras that lined the labs.

"It worked," Skye murmured, her eyes shining brightly as she regarded her friend, "I have everything we need."

Fitz watched, almost entranced, as Skye pulled a USB stick from her pants pocket and quickly inserted it into the laptop he had been working on only minutes before. Without a word, he went to the computer, his fingers flying over the mouse and keys as he opened the device on the screen, and pulled up the files containing Coulson's personal emails. He found that his pulse was pounding in his ears, and his mouth was suddenly filled with saliva, almost as though he was poised to vomit at any second.

Suddenly hearing footfalls in the hall, Skye yanked out the USB and jammed it into her bra, as Bobbi and Hunter rounded the corner and happened upon the pair.

"Well, well, well. Isn't this cosy?" Hunter drawled, his fingers curling around the Icer in his hand. "Both of you. On your feet."

Fitz spluttered, holding up his hands as he looked at the pair in evident horror.

"Wait, wait... Hang on. What's this all about? Can't we talk it over, guys? No need for violence, eh?!"

Bobbi's expression soured and she planted her hands on her hips as she stared in a goading manner at Skye, who sat up straighter in her seat and returned the glare evenly.

"Oh, I wouldn't say that."

"And I wouldn't bother waiting for your boyfriend to come and save you, love. Rumour is, he's met an untimely demise," Hunter chuckled, watching with a disappointed frown settling on his lips as Skye laughed and arched an eyebrow.

"Didn't anyone ever tell you not to believe every rumour you hear, Lance?" Skye queried, cocking her head as she surveyed the man, her gaze sweeping him quickly as she attempted to gauge what weapons he possessed on his person. "Besides, I don't exactly play the damsel in distress well these days."

"Oh, we'll see about that," Bobbi spat, her eyes narrowing as she took a step towards the Inhuman.

"I don't know why you think taking me on is going to end well," Skye retorted, climbing to her feet in an almost bored manner, although her heart thrummed away in her chest like a horse trying to bolt the stable. "Powers, remember?"

"How could we forget, freak?" Hunter shot back, keeping the Icer levelled at Fitz, almost as though he believed that Bobbi could handle whatever Skye chose to throw at her. The Inhuman didn't miss the move, a troubled frown finding her lips as she began to wonder just what had imbued Bobbi with such confidence when she had been bested once before.

"Not so cocky now, Daisy?" Bobbi said, her voice a pantomime of innocence. "Something wrong?"

Skye chuckled, eyes ticking momentarily to the table before she glanced back up at Bobbi. Shaking her head firmly, she replied, "Not a damn thing, Morse."

Before either of the human agents could respond, Skye was on her feet, wielding the stool she had been sitting on as a weapon. She swung at Hunter, barely missing him as he dived to the side. She turned and flung the chair at Bobbi, mildly irritated when the agent seemed to sense the move and used her crossed forearms to block the missile. Seconds later, her batons were racked, and Skye rolled her eyes at the cliché, refusing to be intimidated by either of the arguably more experienced agents.

"Last chance to come quietly, love," Hunter intoned, shaking his head as he added, "our orders aren't to kill you."

Bobbi chuckled, obviously angered as she added, "But they don't say a damn thing about beating the shit out of you. I happen to like my nose, and you're paying for that little stunt today."

"Now, wait... Just a bloody minute!" Fitz held up his finger, bravely stepping in front of Skye, chivalry and concern for his friend getting the better of him.

"Fitz, I appreciate the gesture, but you might want to get out of the way!" Skye directed, "I can deal with her. Don't worry."

Bobbi appeared to mull over Skye's words, suddenly glancing at Hunter as she queried, "Lance?"

Switching his aim from Fitz to Skye, Hunter smirked as his fingers curled around the trigger. "Don't mind us, love. We're just levelling the playing field. Only fair, eh?!"

"What the..." Skye began angrily, suddenly grasping the desk at her side as she felt something sharp connect with her body. She resisted the urge to cry out, touching her shoulder as she blood began to leak from a small wound situated just to the side of her vest top strap.

"You shot me?" she demanded, hands clenching around the edge of the table. Her vision blurred and she felt suddenly, inexplicably nauseas, as her head began to spin. Her gaze ticked to Hunter, and he shrugged, smiling.

"Not your run of the mill Icer," Bobbi explained, gesturing to the gun that Hunter was now jamming into a holster at his waist, "the pellets won't cause much in the way of a wound, but once they hit their target, they explode internally and release a powerful sedative into the bloodstream. I've been working on them for a while."

"You bitch..." Skye hissed, her legs suddenly feeling impossibly shaky. She found she was struggling to keep herself upright - not drifting into unconsciousness per se, but suddenly overcome by a heaviness that made her limbs unresponsive, almost as though she had been paralysed.

"Not nice," Bobbi chided, stepping forwards and quickly taking a swing at Skye, which connected with the Inhuman's jaw and whipped her head backwards.

"Fuck you," Skye spat, determined not to be beaten without a fight as she launched herself at Bobbi, her hand outstretched. Her powers refused to comply, however, thrumming weakly just below the surface of her skin, and Skye was forced at the last second to ball her fist and attempt to land a blow to Bobbi's cheek. However, the Specialist gauged the move with ease, and she grabbed Skye's hand before swinging her around and slamming her forehead into the marble counter. Skye finally did let out a cry, her knees buckling, but she found that Bobbi kept hold of her clenched hand and used it to guide her to the floor. Panic assailed her as Skye realised that it was absolutely the last place that she wanted to be in the presence of one very pissed off Mockingbird, but her body betrayed her and she tumbled down nonetheless.

"Daisy!" Fitz cried out in alarm, jumping forwards only to have Hunter plant a firm hand in the centre of his chest.

"Leave it, mate," Lance said, shaking his head at the irate scientist.

Skye attempted to curl in on herself, hoping to protect her body from the move she knew was coming, but the sedative had made her sluggish and she was nowhere near fast enough. Bobbi pulled back her leg and delivered a swift, hard kick to Skye's abdomen, then another slightly higher up to her ribs as the Inhuman gasped for air on the floor.

"Bobbi, stop!" Fitz pleaded, aghast as Bobbi leaned, grabbed Skye by the neckline of her top, and then backhanded her hard enough to cause a gash beneath her eye.

The last thing Skye was aware of aside from the pain flooding her body was the sound of Fitz screaming, and then only looming darkness.

x-x-x

Ward stalked purposefully down the hall; having disposed of the three CIA assassins with May, he was now in search of Skye and FitzSimmons, poised to make their escape.

He reached the lab in record time, his eyes taking in the scene of what looked suspiciously like a fight. Stooping down, he ran his finger over a smear of blood on the floor, and his breath stilled in his chest.

Fitz's computer lay on the ground in pieces, and it didn't take him any time at all to figure out what had gone on, or indeed who was responsible.

Hurrying towards their rooms, he breathed a relieved sigh as he saw Simmons in the hallway, lingering outside of Fitz's bedroom, and knocking impatiently only to receive no response from her friend.

"Jemma!" Ward called out, gesturing for her to walk towards him as he backed around the corner out of the line of sight.

"Ward," Jemma stammered in greeting, shooting a tired glance at the Specialist, and giving him a quick once over with a keen eye. "Whatever is going on here? Where's Fitz? And why do you look like you've been fighting?"

Ward shook his head, signalling for Simmons to fall silent, before he quickly gestured to the keypad on Fitz's door. It took several moments for realisation to dawn, but when it did, Simmons nodded emphatically before turning around to input the code to Fitz's room. The door swung open and Grant practically bowled over the scientist in his haste to push her inside, where he closed the door once again and turned to Jemma. Her eyes were wide and frightened, but Ward could tell that her fear lay in the possibilities of what might have happened to her beloved Fitz, rather than in the man standing before her.

"Grant, what's happening?" Jemma pressed, leaning closer to the Inhuman and grasping his hand in hers without even considering the action.

Ward's expression darkened, and with a growl that seemed to reverberate in his chest, he hissed, "Fitz and Skye are in trouble."

* * *


	10. Into The Hills We Go

__

Attempting to steady her shaking hand, Jemma grasped the Icer gun tighter and hoped that the deep, steady breaths she was forcing herself to take might just calm her nerves to some extent.

"You remember how to use one of those?" Ward checked, glancing down at her kindly, and yet she could still detect his unease at having her as a potential ally in a rescue mission.

"Fairly certain it's point and shoot..." Simmons said, forcing a smile as Ward winked at her and proceeded to pick up the two additional Icers, which he jammed in his front pocket and the back of the waist band of his jeans.

Despite the cloud of fear and rage that had descended upon him at the idea of what had befallen Skye, Simmons had managed to at least persuade him to forego the handguns he had first determined to utilise.

"It's gonna be okay, Jemma," he stated, with perhaps a little more confidence than he felt, and Jemma simply nodded in reply, her eyes wide with her unchecked terror.

As Ward set out towards the doorway of the armoury, Jemma laid a hand on his arm, momentarily pulling him back.

"How do you know where they are?" she inquired, her voice a fearful whisper. Ward managed to keep a handle on the look of sheer fury that threatened to crash across his features, as his mind once again drifted to the cold, stark cell in Vault D that had been his home for many months.

At his silence, Jemma's mouth fell open and understanding dawned on her, causing her to withdraw her fingers from his arm as though she had been burned.

"Oh..." she simply whispered, her eyes sweeping his face, noting how his features were set into a mask that was truly terrifying to behold. Nonetheless, he offered her a gentle smile, before indicating the door again with a slight nod of his head.

"Morse is sadistic enough for that," he explained as he set out in front of Simmons, and pushed open the door leading to the hallway. The entire corridor was brightly lit by the florescent lights fitted to the ceiling at two foot intervals, and so Ward moved quickly, not wanting to chance running into anyone before they had reached their destination.

He took out a single agent with his Icer before he reached the door to Vault D, pausing only long enough to drag the unconscious woman's body into a doorway, where he left her propped up against the frame. He had seen her around the base once or twice, and even exchanged a pleasantry or two with her, and he had no desire to simply begin taking out agents without discrimination purely because they worked for S.H.I.E.L.D. He still had to believe that there were some in the organisation who, given the chance, would revile what the director had done. He had worked too hard to become a good man, and there was no way he would jeopardise himself again for Phil Coulson.

Simmons reached the doorway leading to the staircase of Vault D first and, whilst Ward turned to scan the hallway for agents, she affixed a small device to the lock. After several seconds, it bleeped before setting off a tiny controlled explosion. Only the lock itself seemed effected by the blast and Simmons grinned in satisfaction to herself as she found she was suddenly able to push open the door without the need to touch the keypad at the side. Hacking and technology were really more Skye and Fitz's things, and so she had utilised one of her older inventions where she had seen the opportunity.

Ward rested a hand on her shoulder, gesturing for her to allow him to descend the stairwell first, in case Morse had left a guard positioned outside the cell.

"We have to be quick," Ward murmured, "it'll only be a matter of time before someone finds those CIA guys and security starts searching the cameras for me."

"I bet Daisy could take them down," Jemma said hopefully, chewing on her lip as she glanced at Ward.

Not wanting to voice his fears - that perhaps Skye wouldn't be able to perform such a relatively simple task given her potential injuries - Ward nodded, holding up a hand to Jemma to signal that she remain behind him.

He inched steadily down the stairs, Icer drawn and poised to fire, and every muscle in his body was coiled, waiting to react.

Appearing from the shadows, two S.H.I.E.L.D. agents ran towards him, and he took each of them down with little effort required; yet something appeared off, and he realised that the rescue attempt was proving far easier than it should have been.

"Jemma... The forcefield," Ward directed, sweeping his gaze around the room as Simmons ran and grabbed the control for the Vault's security screen, which kept the prisoner separated from the interrogating agents.

The grid of beams disappeared from the cell front as Jemma tapped furiously against the tablet controlling it, and Fitz was on his feet in an instant, his features alight with relief.

"Jemma!" he ushered her over with a wave of his hand, gesturing down to Skye, who lay semi-conscious on the prison cot. Her eye appeared swollen and a small cut marred the skin above her cheekbone, but it was her reluctance to regain consciousness that had worried the physicist more than anything.

"She won't wake up," he explained, wringing his hands as he watched Ward stride into the cell.

Ward was at Skye's side in an instant, his eyes roving her body as Simmons gingerly lifted her shirt, only to discover an already fading bruise on her abdomen, shaped rather tellingly like a boot tip.

"I... I don't know. Usually she heals a little faster than your average Inhuman. I suppose that's her mother's genes at work," Simmons babbled, her fingers drifting to Skye's neck in order to check her pulse. She found a distinct but somewhat sluggish rhythm met her fingertips, and she frowned as she shot a glance at Fitz.

"Did she bang her head at all?" she inquired, worry clouding her features as Fitz nodded quickly.

"On the counter... Bobbi, she uhm... Well, yeah," Fitz stammered out, his eyes widening as Ward visibly tensed at his side, and smoke began to rise from his clenched fists.

"Ward, now's not the time," Simmons hissed, her eyes also drifting to the tendrils of smoke beginning to waft from the Inhuman's fingertips, hinting that he was fast losing control of his powers in the face of his rage. Nodding through gritted teeth, Ward took a deep breath, counting slowly backwards in his head as Skye had taught him until he was able to push aside his anger once again and lock down his grip on his abilities.

"Fitz, what else happened?" Jemma demanded, her hand sweeping aside Skye's hair as she closely examined the gash on her forehead. "This head injury doesn't look anywhere near serious enough to prevent her regaining full consciousness."

"Hunter..." Fitz stated suddenly, his hand moving through the air as he searched for the words, "he had some kind of altered Icer. They said something about the bullets... Uhm, sedatives, I think."

Simmons shook her head, finding her own anger rising in waves in her chest. She peered down into Skye's face, carefully lifting each of her eyelids as she called out, "Daisy, sweetheart, can you hear me?"

"We don't have time," Ward stated, scooping Skye up into his arms and pressing a tender kiss to her forehead as she rested against his chest. "Fitz, take the Icer in the waistband of my jeans, and shoot anyone who tries to stop us."

Fitz nodded, awkwardly grabbing the weapon and following behind, Jemma's hand clasped in his as they headed towards the stairs.

Quickly realising the implausibility in carrying Skye through the hallways whilst also attempting to fight off an untold number of assailants, Ward gently let Skye down onto her feet, holding her up before he hoisted her over his shoulder in order to leave one hand free to wield a weapon. He trusted FitzSimmons implicitly to have his back but they were scientists, not Specialists, and he knew that they were largely relying on him to lead them out of danger.

"You just won't bloody die, will you? You're like a cockroach," Hunter snarled as he appeared at the top of the stairs without warning. He advanced threateningly towards the Inhuman, a gun drawn that Ward instantly knew was not a S.H.I.E.L.D. issue Icer. Hunter clearly had a far more permanent solution in mind.

"Just give me an excuse to burn you alive, Hunter," Ward spat, the Icer in his hand beginning to grow hot as his powers struggled to the surface, clinging to his rage and anxiety.

"Yeah, big cuddly Carebears, you lot," Hunter scoffed, hazarding a glance over Ward's shoulder and noting FitzSimmons hanging back on the stairwell, their eyes wide and gazes uncertain. Neither were seasoned in combat, and Lance knew that he had the upper hand in the situation, despite being outnumbered.

"You attacked my girlfriend," Ward retorted, lip peeling back in a snarl that should have driven fear into Hunter's heart. However, the Brit seemed unaffected, merely chuckling as though Ward's anger amused him. Whether it was arrogance alone or sheer stupidity, Ward couldn't tell.

"Your girlfriend belongs in a cage like the rest of you animals," Hunter spat, "And you? You should have died a long time ago, when Coulson put you down."

"Yet here I am," Ward countered with a dangerous smile in place. His eyes narrowed to slits, he snarled, "Get out of my way."

"Or you'll what? You've got the missus over your shoulder, and you're armed with nothing but a jumped up water pistol, with Scooby and Shaggy down there as back-up. I'm hardly quaking in my boots."

FitzSimmons scoffed indignantly from the bottom of the stairs, leaving Hunter to chuckle as though his point had been aptly proven.

Ward's jaw tensed. Although he was loathed to admit it, he knew that Hunter was indeed right, and that the advantage belonged to him. Before Grant could even hope to have Skye laid safely on the ground, Hunter would have time to take the kill shot he needed twice over.

"So how's this going to end, Hunter?" Ward demanded, shifting his weight slightly as he attempted to position his body in front of Simmons, shielding her somewhat from the irate agent's view.

"Not well for you, mate," Hunter replied, his sneer of disgust overwhelming his features momentarily. "Coulson wants your head, and he's not exactly the only one."

One eyebrow arched, Ward pressed, "And Skye? What about her? How does she fit into Coulson's plans?"

Hunter shrugged, taking a moment to rub his free hand over his jaw, "Dunno. Up until tonight he still thought he could talk Daisy there around, but... seems like you getting into her knickers has knocked all sense right out of that pretty little head of hers."

Casting a slightly derogatory gaze over the unconscious woman in Grant's arms, Lance added, "No matter though, eh? Won't be long before her whole kind are neutered."

Though Hunter had his attention well focused on the Specialist before him, he had negated to pay any further mind to the designated 'Scoobies' beneath the stairwell, and that was perhaps a bigger mistake than he could have anticipated.

Catching movement out of the corner of his eye, Ward turned in a split second, shielding Skye as best he could as a series of shots rang out from below. Within seconds, an unconscious Hunter rolled down the metal staircase and landed in a heap at the bottom with a sickening thud that Ward thought was thoroughly deserved.

"I'll bloody show him!" Fitz snorted with evident disgust, nodding emphatically as he stepped over Hunter's prone body and nudged Simmons ahead of him up the stairs.

"Shall we?" he asked nervously, shooting an inquiring glance at Grant. Fitz's smile bloomed as Ward shot him a wholly amused but grateful wink.

"Nice shot, Scooby."

Soberly, Fitz shot back, "Don't mention it, Fred."

Simmons trotted ahead of the group, Icer brandished somewhat awkwardly in one hand as she pushed through the doors, ensuring the corridor ahead was clear for Ward to walk through.

"So uhm, not that I'm not incredibly grateful for the rescue, guys, but... You do have some kind of a plan here, right?" Fitz pressed as he jogged at Ward's side in order to match pace with the Specialist, who didn't seem to have been slowed down at all by the presence of the woman in his arms.

"There's a quin jet waiting for us in the hangar. We get out of here and we put as much distance between ourselves and S.H.I.E.L.D. as is physically possible," Ward replied, slowing down suddenly as they came upon the corridor that connected the hangar to the main building.

"Do you think Coulson knows yet? That you survived?" Simmons asked, her tone belaying the fear coursing through her body at a hundred miles an hour.

Ward paused to cast a fleeting glance down at Skye as she stirred in his arms, and he let out a steady breath as she murmured unintelligibly. He hugged her closer to his chest, letting her head fall back against his shoulder and into the crook of his neck.

"It's okay, baby. I've got you now."

Fitz and Simmons exchanged a pointed glance, each gripping their Icers tighter as they awaited the answer Ward seemed reluctant to give.

"Ward?" Fitz prompted him again, this time in little more than a whisper.

"No," Ward shook his head, "May will do her best to keep him busy. I'd say we've got a couple of hours until Hunter comes round."

"What about the cameras?" Fitz asked, halting in his tracks as Ward glanced carefully around the corner, relieved to spy the hanger door only feet away.

"I didn't have time to do anything about those but until they have a reason to start searching for us, we should be okay. Coulson thinks I'm dead and Skye is in the Vault," Ward reassured him, shifting Skye's body again into a fireman's lift. The sound of footfalls approaching drew his attention from Fitz, and Grant held up his free hand to the scientists as he nodded toward the far end of the hall, where the open hanger door beckoned them.

Shooting a significant look at FitzSimmons, he clenched his hand into a fist before cocking his head and listening intently to the footsteps. After several seconds, he held up three fingers, and Fitz nodded his understanding. Eyes wide and breathing somewhat shaky, Simmons offered Ward a grim look before she raised her own weapon and pressed her back against the wall.

The first of the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents had passed the alcove that Ward lurked behind before he stepped out of the shadows and took the man out with a single shot from his Icer. The two agents following in the man's wake reacted immediately, training kicking in with the appearance of a threat, but Fitz managed to knock one unconscious within seconds with his own Icer. The final agent landed one solid punch to Grant's jaw before Simmons had fired a burst of rounds into his back, sending him tumbling to the floor in a heap of limbs.

"Go, now, hurry up," Ward hissed, grimacing against the stinging in his jaw as he ushered Fitz and Simmons into the hangar.

Waiting until Fitz and Ward had hurried past, Jemma closed the door with the gentlest of clicks.

"Jemma?!" Fitz whispered, stepping into the quin jet and rubbing his hands together gleefully as he noted the mountain of kit bags and holdalls.

"Ah, magic!" he enthused, a flutter of appreciation for Agent May rising in his chest. It seemed that she had gone to the trouble of packing for both he and Simmons, before leaving their bags inside the craft along with Ward and Skye's. When it came to the perfect escape plan, it certainly seemed that May was the most put together of them all.

"Jemma?" Ward lay Skye down carefully on the floor of the plane, stroking her hair from her face as he waited for Simmons to appear at her side. Snatching the medical kit from the wall, the scientist nodded to him, and Ward grudgingly left his girlfriend in the woman's care.

"Get us out of here, Grant!" Fitz hurried him, swallowing hard as the door of the jet slowly closed, and Ward took his seat at the controls. His fingers flew over the various buttons and switches, almost through sheer muscle memory, and within seconds the engines of the jet were whirring. Glancing up from her patient for only a moment, Simmons caught Fitz's gaze and frowned in questioning.

"Grant?" she mouthed. Shrugging as he knelt down beside her, he pushed a folded up sweater underneath Skye's head.

"Just trying it out. He's less scary when you call him that," he explained. Clearing his throat as he stood up again, Fitz moved away from Simmons, allowing her the space she needed to work. He dropped down into the co-pilot's seat of the quin jet and offered Ward a smile that was forced and yet wholly grateful at the same time.

"I guess a 'thank you' is in order," Fitz began, his fingers drumming on the armrest of the chair as he stared out of the windscreen into the darkened night sky, and the mass of grey clouds that obscured the distance.

"Not necessary," Ward replied, shaking his head as he dragged his eyes from the horizon for just a moment in order to peer back at Fitz, "I could save your life a hundred times, Fitz, and it still wouldn't make the past right."

Fitz nodded, remaining silent for a moment before he replied, "But it's a start."

Ward hesitated before turning to regard him, and the two men seemed to come to a sort of mutual understanding.

"Just... treat that girl right, and... you and I will be golden."

Flicking a few switches, Ward tapped coordinates into the touch screen and sat back as the plane deciphered the quickest route to their getaway. Once satisfied that the programme was running smoothly, Ward stood up and placed his hand on Fitz's shoulder, leaning down to regard the physicist with a faint smile.

"I love her, Fitz, but you already know that."

A tiny smile twitched at the Scot's lips, and he nodded silently. However, he couldn't quite help the sudden panic that stiffened his limbs as Ward added teasingly, "Controls are all yours, buddy."

Before Fitz could utter even a squeak of protest, Ward chuckled and gestured towards the pilot's seat, "Autopilot."

"You know, this new sense of humour of yours needs work!" Fitz called out over his shoulder, slumping into his seat before he grumbled under his breath, "a lot of work."

Ward moved to the centre of the plane, where Simmons was carefully cleaning the gash on Skye's forehead with an antiseptic wipe, her hands covered by the latex gloves she had pulled from the medical kit. Although the med. bay at the Playground was infinitely better stocked for such occasions, Simmons was aware that beggars could not be choosers, and nor could fugitives. She supposed, with a sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach, that that was what they had now become by acting against Coulson; wanted fugitives. Wherever they made their escape to, they would need to lay low in order to keep off S.H.I.E.L.D.'s radar, but Jemma was certain that neither Skye nor Ward would want to allow the government to continue on the self righteous path of death and destruction they had descended upon.

Crouching down at Simmons' side, Ward reached out and gingerly took hold of Skye's hand, brushing his thumb over her knuckles in a futile bid to rouse her.

"How's my girl doing?" he inquired, his eyes meeting Jemma's as she paused in her task of affixing paper stitches to Skye's head wound.

Jemma looked up and smiled reassuringly, "She'll be just fine. A few superficial cuts and bruises, but nothing that should leave a scar, I'm sure," she added quietly, raising the Inhuman's shirt and to survey the dark bruise that had marred her upper abdomen. It had begun to fade to a murky brown already, and Jemma was pleased that it could be said that Jiaying's powers of regeneration had seemingly proven to be of some benefit to her daughter.

Ward's lips drew into a firm line as he cast his eyes over Skye's body, his fingertips working gently over the back of her hand as his jaw clenched at the very idea that somebody would have dared to hurt her. Or more specifically, that Bobbi had dared to hurt her. Enticing whispers of revenge had already begun to haunt him, but he desperately attempted to banish them as he watched Skye's eyelids begin to flicker.

Hearing only strange and distorted voices echoing around her, Skye let out a groan and struggled to tear herself away from the grip of unconsciousness. She felt tender hands caressing her skin, and the faint odour of latex drifted to her nostrils as another more stilted touch worked at her forehead.

"Skye?"

She blinked slowly, wincing as she tried to lift her head from the makeshift pillow. "Grant?"

"Right here," he stated, lifting her hand to his lips and kissing the back of it with obvious affection.

"Fitz... Is..." Skye mumbled, screwing her eyes closed momentarily as she struggled to rectify her blurred vision.

"Fitz is just fine, Simmons too," Ward assured her, the back of his hand caressing her cheek. "Take your time, baby."

Skye's lips formed a frown and she reluctantly forced her eyelids open, ignoring the rolling sensation in her stomach as the concerned faces of Ward and Jemma peering down at her began to bleed together.

"Head is fuzzy," Skye muttered, sounding so petulant and irritated that Ward couldn't help but smile - half amused by her immediate attitude and half overwhelmed by relief that she was okay.

Simmons watched with an awkward yet growing sense of curiosity as Ward helped Skye to sit up, pillowing her against his broad chest and wrapping an arm around her to steady her. His free hand fluttered very carefully to her cheek, and he caressed her face as if she were made of glass, his eyes fraught with concern.

Ward soon felt the weight of Simmons' stare, and when he met her gaze, she glanced away, busying herself with tidying the gauze and dressing wrappers to allow them some degree of privacy. It was a side of Ward she had never seen before, but the biochemist had to admit to finding it intriguing. Perhaps Skye was right when she said Ward was a changed man, but Jemma was almost certain that it had been the young hacker herself who had been the catalyst to such a change.

"Where are we going?" Skye asked, her fingers clutching at the sleeve of his leather jacket. She inhaled the familiar scent with a sense of calm beginning to descend upon her.

"Catskills. I know a place up there. An old fishing cabin. We should be safe for a while, at least," he assured her, bending his head and pressing a tender and relieved kiss to the top of her head.

"Cabin?" Skye repeated, wincing. She leaned back in his arms to regard him with the faintest traces of derision.

Chuckling in response, Ward added, "Don't worry, it's got running water, an indoor bathroom, and electricity."

Letting loose a weary sigh, Skye sat up a little straighter, finally forcing her eyes wide open as she peered up at him and reached out to cup his stubble lined jaw.

"I don't care... long as we're together," she said, smiling cheekily she added, "well... the indoor plumbing part makes me kind of happy."

"Are you sure you're okay?" Ward pressed, his fingers hovering over every inch of her body as he surveyed her condition, taking in the bruises and scrapes that marred her.

"I feel like I've gone ten rounds with the Hulk, with my hands tied behind my back, but I'll live," Skye replied, reaching up to touch Ward's cheek with the back of one hand. She lowered her voice to a murmur as she added, "Thank you for coming for me."

"Always," Grant added in an instant, such vehement conviction behind the word that Skye didn't doubt him for a second.

"What happened back there?" Simmons demanded, glancing upwards as Fitz clambered out of his seat and joined them to sit cross legged on the floor of the quin jet.

"I was just about to read the data from Coulson's emails. Hunter and Morse came in. They knew about the assassins, Ward. They were working under direct instructions," Skye faltered, fresh pain and sorrow crashing across her features as she added, "Coulson let them do that to me."

Fitz swallowed hard, shaking his head in apparent disbelief, although he knew deep down that Skye's words could not be refuted; Coulson had ordered them to be taken prisoner, and there was no telling what he had had in store for them afterwards.

"Bobbi was..." Fitz trailed off, shaking his head, "she was brutal. I've never seen her like that before."

Ward snorted with disdain, "The woman who sold her friend and countless other agents out to Hydra? Knowing they were gonna be tortured, brainwashed... Maybe killed? At least I'm ashamed of the things I did... Morse? She'd do it all again in a heartbeat."

Simmons licked her lips nervously and bobbed her head, reluctant to agree and yet finding herself unable to do anything else.

"I think perhaps Ward is right," she chimed in, a vaguely terrified expression settling on her face. "They're going to come after us, aren't they?"

She stared down at the floor of the aircraft, only glancing up when she felt a hand land on her arm and curl around her bicep. She was surprised to find Ward searching out her gaze, and he squeezed her arm gently.

"I won't let anything happen to you..." he cast a brief glance over to Fitz, "either of you. Bobbi and Hunter are no match for us, and they know that. It's why they had to drug Skye to take her down. If they come after us, they'll regret it."

Simmons wasn't sure which eventually she was more afraid of, but she nodded timidly and shot him a smile of thanks. Fitz slung his arm around Jemma's shoulder for moral support, inching his body ever closer to hers, and finding himself vaguely pleased when she leaned into his side.

"We stick together, Jem. The four of us. With our brains and their brawn," he paused to gesture over to Skye and Ward, who both looked mildly affronted at being relegated to the proverbial muscle, "we're gonna be okay. You'll see."

He cleared his throat and glanced away diplomatically as he realised the couple in question were caught up in a whispered conversation, their noses touching as they claimed kisses and fingertips gently explored bruised skin, hoping to soothe away wounds.

"Although there might have to be less canoodling," Fitz added loudly, shaking his head in mock disdain at the pair. They drew apart only to shoot him a withering look, which he acknowledged with only a shrug of his shoulders.

Suddenly realising a potential issue with their arrangements, Simmons quickly piped up, "Uh... So this cabin you've claimed, Ward? How... I mean... How are we going to sort out... you know... sleeping arrangements?"

First hiding a smirk in Skye's neck, he then lifted his head and shrugged, eyes wide with feigned innocence as he relayed, "There are two beds... there's four of us."

Simmons swallowed hard, clearly sorry she had asked, and Ward's responding laughter seemed to lighten the mood if only by a fraction. Although blushing furiously, Fitz nudged Jemma with his elbow, the gesture playful and teasing, and reminiscent of much simpler times when it hadn't quite literally been them against the world. Hiding her shy smile behind a cough and a reproachful look, Jemma only rolled her eyes and gathered herself from the floor of the jet.

Skye relaxed back in Grant's arms, her own smile of amusement beginning to fade as her body throbbed with her movement, sending her a brief but sharp reminder of the events of the past twenty four hours, and of how the man she had come to regard with a daughter's love had treated her like a dangerous animal to be put down. Ward felt her shiver, and he tightened his grip on her as much as he dared.

The flash drive, loaded with evidence that would no doubt be damning for both Coulson and S.H.I.E.L.D., pressed against Skye's breast, and she quickly fished in her bra to retrieve it. It was a small blessing at least that neither Bobbi or Hunter had known of its existence, and it had remained in Skye's possession against all odds.

Of course, she was no longer sure that she wished to know just how dirty Coulson's hands had gotten, or what the intended fate of her people might prove to be. But being a leader meant pushing aside personal feelings and pursuing the paths that were sometimes most feared, and Skye would make no exceptions.

As soon as they landed, she would know all of Coulson's secrets, no matter how dark they might prove to be.


	11. I Felt What It Was Like To Be Free

__

With well practised ease, Ward had landed the quin jet in a clearing that he claimed was situated just over five miles away from their destination. After enabling the cloaking device and unloading their bags, the four fugitives had begun their trek through the dense woodlands, FitzSimmons walking arm in arm whilst Skye leaned heavily on Ward for support. Her injuries were healing rapidly but Simmons predicted that it would still be a few days before she would be up to her usual strength, and so Ward - as their unanimously appointed leader - had resolved that they would spend as much time as required laying low at the cabin and formulating a plan. He was confident that all the information and data they would require would be stored on the flash drive in Skye's pocket, and whilst there was a part of him that was eager to set the wheels in motion, there was another part of him that could barely believe that things had come to this.

They walked in complete silence, a combination of fear and sorrow weighing down on them all. Running on very little sleep and fading traces of adrenaline, Ward could tell that the hike was beginning to take its toll on them all, especially when Simmons let out a long and loud yawn from behind him that sent a flock of birds wheeling from a nearby tree.

"Not far now," Ward assured them all in a low voice as he carefully picked his way along the overgrown path that would ultimately lead them to the dozen abandoned fishing cabins that surrounded the lake. He pulled Skye closer into his side, guiding her over the rocky and uneven ground carefully, and shooting a glance over his shoulder to ensure that FitzSimmons followed in his wake without veering off the path. The area was well used by hunters and the last thing they needed was for one of them to stumble into a bear trap, or simply fall prey to the perilous terrain.

Keeping a tight hold on Skye's hand, Ward led her over the bracken and twisted roots of the trees that surrounded them. They continued on around broken logs and tree stumps, batting at overhanging branches with their hands until they came to a stop on the edge of a small clearing.

"It's just through those trees," Ward stated, turning to regard his team of fellow fugitives, "everyone alright?"

Simmons nodded, planting her hands on her hips as she surveyed the woodland and took the opportunity to regulate her breathing. Fitz bent over and clasped his knees, taking a series of gasping breaths before he hoisted the bag back into place on his shoulder and straightened up.

"Yeah," he said, his voice strained, "we're fine."

"Yes, absolutely fine. Shall we?" Jemma gestured towards the break in the trees, and waited for Ward to nod and then begin to stride purposefully onward.

"He takes such long bloody steps!" Fitz griped, whispering at Jemma as the pair struggled to keep up.

"Almost there," Jemma soothed, reaching out and offering him her hand. A faintly embarrassed blush coloured his cheeks, and he clasped it in his own, suddenly unable to contain the grin from breaking out across his face.

"Guys?" Skye called out, turning to regard her friends with an element of haste to her tone.

"Righto!" Fitz called back, nodding slightly more enthusiastically as he clutched Jemma's hand and they trudged on together.

They approached the clearing with a renewed sense of urgency overtaking them, FitzSimmons managing to push to the front of the group with a spurt of energy that surprised Ward as he lingered behind with Skye.

"Well, this is... Quaint..." Simmons stated, swallowing hard as she took in the sight of the somewhat dilapidated cabins ringing the lakeside. It was obvious that they had been in disuse for quite some time, the wood weathered and, in some cases, rotting.

"Ours is in a little better condition," Ward promised, immediately sensing Simmons' trepidation.

"We'll make it work," Skye voiced, beginning to push on with determination, one arm curled around her abdomen as her ribs caused slight twinges of pain with every step.

Lowering her gaze to the ground, Skye ventured a tentative glance up at Ward.

"Was this one of your safe houses?"

His eyes trained on the row of cabins, Ward shook his head, squinting against the sunset that hung low over the trees as he replied, "No. It belonged to a buddy of mine a long time ago."

Pursing her lips, she nodded as she digested the information. "A Hydra buddy?"

"No," Ward replied, looping his arm around her and drawing her closer as he spoke softly against her ear. "Just a lonely old guy who showed a little kindness to a terrified kid. This was a good place... a safe place."

Watching as an expression of fleeting sadness passed over his features, Skye leaned in closer and lifted her palm to his cheek. Offering him a gentle smile, she craned her neck and pressed a kiss against his lips.

"Come on, we should get the kids inside," she teased, nodding over towards FitzSimmons, who were both sitting somewhat impatiently on the step of the centre cabin, swinging their legs and slapping randomly at their bodies to deter the mosquitoes that were out in force.

Smirking, Ward nodded his head and veered towards the left in the fork in the path that suddenly presented itself.

"This way, guys," called out Skye, hanging onto Grant's hand still as she shot a glance at the scientists, who scrambled to their feet in record time in order to follow their friends.

Ward walked towards the larger of the cabins, climbing the porch steps in one stride, before he approached the door, one hand foraging in the pocket of his jeans.

"The last time I came here was right before I was recruited by Coulson," Ward said, his tone unreadable to all but Skye, who could easily detect his sadness and anger. He produced a key, which slid into the lock, and he turned it before quickly pushing the door open.

"The place is going to need a little TLC," Ward explained, shooting a backwards glance at Skye, "but it should be safe, for now."

Skye wrinkled her nose as a musty, stale smell assaulted her nostrils. She comforted herself with the thought that as long as the door remained open, allowing in some much needed fresh air, the stench would begin to clear somewhat. The cabin was small, with what she assumed was a door to the bathroom, and an open plan living space with a kitchenette, an oddly homely looking living room area, complete with a couch and log fire, and two double beds on the opposite side of the room.

"Oh, well... it's not too bad!" Simmons exclaimed brightly, beginning to pull off the plastic dust sheets that covered some of the furniture. "Nothing that a little airing out won't fix."

Fitz seemed transfixed by the beds, and he cleared his throat uncomfortably as he jerked his head towards them. When he spoke, his voice sounded oddly strained.

"There's uh... two beds. Four of us. Two beds."

Dumping his and Skye's bag down pointedly on one of the mattresses, Ward arched an eyebrow and bit back the smile he felt twitching at his lips. "Is that a problem?"

Simmons blanched, suddenly trying to look anywhere except the faces of her friends.

"No... No. It'll be just fine. I'm sure we'll manage," she stated, leaving Fitz's mouth gaping in response. "We're all adults here."

Hiding her smirk with some difficulty, Skye poked Ward in the ribs in warning, although he grinned at FitzSimmons nonetheless, clearly pleased with the situation. He could, of course, alleviate some of the tension by offering to share one of the beds with Fitz whilst Skye bunked with Jemma, however, if truth be told Grant was rather looking forward to giving the two scientists a proverbial nudge in the right direction when it came to their relationship status. That, and of course he was loathed to be apart from Skye, particularly given recent events.

"Yeah... I... Uhm... It'll be... Fine... Grand..." Fitz stammered, eyes sweeping the cabin as he strived to look anywhere but at Jemma, who had begun to turn a shade of red that was almost impressive to behold.

"Great, now that's settled," Skye replied, eyeing the kitchen area and feeling her mouth begin to water as she realised it had been nearly twenty four hours since she had eaten, "we should talk supplies. How much do we have, what do we need, and how we can get more?!"

"The supplies we picked up at the camp store should last a couple of days," Ward began, pausing as Fitz scoffed at his comment and folded his arms across his chest in a clearly amused manner.

"I think you mean the supplies you _stole_. You know, on account of the store not being open and all."

"It's out of season," Ward deflected, hoisting the four bags of groceries and various other items onto the counter, as he added pointedly, "besides, I left the money by the register."

Skye peered into the bags with interest, watching with rapt attention as he produced a collection of tinned and canned goods, and even a box of ready made pancake mix. Her eyes practically lit up as he grinned and tossed a bag of strawberry flavoured Twizzlers in her direction. Next, Ward placed a pack of fishing hooks and a roll of fishing yarn down onto the counter, before glancing around at the three suitably confused faces that greeted him.

"Plenty of fish in the lake, if you know where to look. Any of you know how to fish?"

Fitz's eyebrows knit into a frown and he held his hand up as if affronted by the question. "Um, hello? Scottish? It's what we're famous for?!"

Skye narrowed her eyes thoughtfully, chewing on the end of a piece of candy as she replied, "I thought that was for guys wearing skirts?"

"A kilt is not a skirt, thank you very much!" Fitz objected, seemingly not at all comforted by the sympathetic wince Jemma shot in his direction.

"Bloody Yanks!" he muttered, his eyes suddenly widening as Ward threw a box of Reece's Pieces at him, and his sour mood sweetened.

"I'm gonna go out back and see if I can crank up the generator," Ward stated, digging in his pocket and retrieving a flash light, "you guys might want to layer up, it gets pretty cold out here at night and we can't light the fire because of the smoke."

Skye was momentarily lost in thought, realising with a sickening ache just how Ward had come to know how cold and inhospitable their current environment could be. It made her angry and also utterly heartbroken to think of him as nothing more than a kid, afraid and unwanted, literally fighting to survive.

"I'll give you a hand," she offered, smiling up at him and zipping her leather jacket as she peered out at the darkness that was beginning to descend around them.

"No need," he assured her, bending down and brushing a soft kiss against her lips, "stay here and keep warm. I'll be ten minutes, tops."

Pouting slightly, Skye nodded, electing to instead trawl through the bags of goods that Ward had managed to retrieve in order to salvage something resembling an evening meal. They had left the base behind less than sixteen hours ago, but that time had been consumed by escape plans, travelling, scrounging and hiking. There had been precious little time to attend to their basic human needs, and Skye's stomach was beginning to rumble loudly in protest, as Fitz's had already begun to do hours before. Simmons had been surprisingly quiet about any discomforts, and Skye wondered if perhaps the scientist felt she deserved to suffer for her part in Coulson's plans.

As she watched the Brit beginning to tug a sweater from her backpack, Skye rested a hand over the back of Jemma's, stilling her actions but also drawing the woman's gaze to her face. She flashed the Inhuman such a watery smile that Skye immediately moved forward and gathered her into her arms, ignoring the protests her numerous bruises made.

"Hey, we're all okay," Skye assured Jemma, inclining her head in order to whisper in the other woman's ear. "Stop beating yourself up over this. You couldn't have known."

Simmons stared down at the bed, swallowing hard as she weakly attempted a smile.

"It's just that I should have realised something wasn't right. I... I've been too busy making an issue out of... _certain things_... and it's blinded me to what's really been going on around us."

Skye smiled kindly, squeezing Jemma's hand as she added, "I told you, Jem. He's different now. You'll see."

"I think perhaps I already have," Jemma allowed, placing her free hand atop of Skye's and patting it absently. "He was so very worried about you back there, and... gentle, tender almost. In all the time I've known Ward, even... you know, before... I..." She shook her head, stopping herself before she began to dredge up the past yet again, "I suppose what I'm trying to say is, that I trust him to look after us."

The dim lights of the cabin suddenly flickered into life, and Skye swept her gaze around the room with obvious excitement, keen to see if the rather antiquated looking electric stove was in working order.

"Thank God," Skye enthused, shuddering as a chill ran through her, "I'm starving!"

"Please tell me Ward bought something edible," Fitz began, making his way over towards the kitchen island, where Skye was already busily foraging through the bags, Simmons at her side.

"I'd bloody kill for a hamburger," Jemma said wistfully, then, at the stare she received from Fitz, she blushed and began to back-pedal, "well, that is... I mean... I..."

Chuckling dryly, Skye only patted her friend on the arm and reassured her, "I know what you meant, Jem. Just try to chill."

Puffing out her cheeks and releasing a heavy sigh, Simmons shook her head, her expression not far from hopeless.

"I'm not sure that's even remotely possible at the moment," she mumbled, pushing her hand through her messy ponytail and resolutely pulling her hair free from the elastic band.

Fitz beamed as his hand disappeared into the bag closest to him and, with his eyes positively gleaming, he pulled out the largest bottle of whiskey he had ever had the pleasure of seeing.

"This might help," he suggested, winking as Simmons frowned at him.

Jemma reached out and took the bottle from him almost gingerly, before she peered at the label whilst silently debating her next course of action.

"Oh, what the hell."

Shrugging, she twisted open the cap and took a healthy slug of liquor. The burn that crept down her throat stole her breath away, and she winced whilst her eyes watered with the effort of swallowing. Fitz watched in alarm, hurriedly twisting off the cap from a bottle of water before he thrust it under her nose. Jemma only shook her head, waving her hands at him as she finally managed a breath that was more a laboured gasp. Fitz had a feeling they were in for a long night.

x-x-x

Two hours, four enormous bowls of beef stew, and two family sized bags of chips later, the four found themselves sitting around in varying degrees of liquor fuelled relaxation.

"Ten years from now..." Fitz began, leaning his head back against the dark green, velvet chair he lay sprawled in, "where do you guys reckon you'll be?"

Skye's frown was so deep that it was almost a scowl, and Fitz momentarily regretted posing the question as she replied, "Provided Coulson and S.H.I.E.L.D. haven't wiped out my people, you mean?"

Wordlessly, Ward passed her the now half full whiskey bottle, stroking a tendril of hair away from her eyes as she took a deep pull. Ordinarily, he would have been against the idea of even a drop of alcohol passing their lips when the situation called for their full awareness, but he knew that they needed this; they had taken a beating, both figuratively and literally, and they were in grave need of some down time, before the dawn broke and they were forced to face the reality of what was to come.

"We will never let that happen, Skye," Simmons, who had become progressively more tipsy as the minutes ticked by, slurred as she waved her hand vigorously to illustrate her point. She frowned as she realised her own blunder, and corrected herself primly, "Daisy."

Skye shrugged and shook her head, taking another swig before she handed the bottle back to Ward, who was somewhat more reserved in his drinking, and arguably more seasoned at holding his alcohol.

"It's okay," Skye replied, the ghost of a smile on her lips, "Daisy Johnson is a S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent, loyal to Director Coulson. I don't think I like her very much any more."

"Okay, so, ten years from now..." Fitz continued, grinning as he turned to his friend and surveyed her, "where will Skye be?"

Leaning back against Ward's broad chest, Skye shrugged, her expression downcast, until she seemed to come to a decision with a deep breath. She allowed a brief trace of her old self to shine through in her sudden, shy smile, and Fitz found himself regarding not Daisy, but instead Skye; the girl who faced obstacles head on, and who refused to allow the trials of life to dull the very visceral thrill of simply being.

"I don't know," she replied, "I guess I'd like to help people... but..."

She faltered and Fitz, feeling bolder the more the alcohol level in his blood rose, arched an eyebrow and gestured for her to continue with a flick of his wrist.

"I don't know, it's stupid, but... growing up in the orphanage, I guess all I've ever wanted was a home, and... somebody to love me. No matter what."

She stilled as she felt Ward press his lips to her cheek, and he whispered in her ear so quietly that she closed her eyes as his words drifted against her skin.

His promise was sincere yet simple, " _For always_."

Drawing back, Grant watched as a bright smile overtook Skye's features, and she reached up to press her palm to his cheek. Almost bashfully, as if perhaps afraid of his reaction, she added, "I want a family of my own, as crazy as that sounds right now, I do... I want it. Maybe it's selfish, I don't know, but I..."

She blinked as Ward pressed his lips to hers with urgency, and Skye's eyes fluttered closed as he kissed her so deeply that there was little room left for even the slightest trace of fear that that was perhaps not the future that he too wanted. More specifically, the future that he wanted with her.

Simmons wrinkled her nose as she watched the couple, a hiccup escaping her lips when she giggled as they kissed again.

"Awwww, little, tiny, baby..." she began, trailing off as Skye pointed a single finger at her in warning.

"If you finish that sentence, Jem, I'm cutting you off," Skye promised, satisfied when Jemma obediently closed her mouth, her hand instead inching towards the bottle that Ward now gripped close to his thigh. Chuckling, the former Specialiast handed the bottle across to Simmons, who beamed before raising it to her lips. When she drank, more of the liquid spilled down her chin than actually found its way into her mouth, and Skye was left wondering if perhaps the scientist was on a mission to keep drinking until she no longer felt nervous about the infamous bed situation.

"Ward?" Fitz inquired, shooting an amused glance at Grant, who grinned in response.

"Well, obviously, I'm going to be on board with that," he replied, pausing momentarily before adding jokingly, "and I'll own a Camaro."

"No room for baby seats in that, mate," Fitz chuckled, even as he attempted to wrest the bottle from Jemma's hand.

Ward laughed, his expression sobering as he pondered Fitz's question perhaps slightly more seriously. Shaking his head, as if he were uncertain of all but one fact in his future, Ward offered simply, "Wherever Skye is, that's where I'll be."

Finally managing to pry the bottle from Jemma's surprisingly forceful grip, Fitz took a long, slow drink and watched Skye curl up into Grant's arms. Her reluctance to flout their relationship seemed to have now all but disappeared, and she nestled into his arms as if there were nowhere else she would rather be. It seemed that she'd made her choice, and that was that. Skye leaned her head on his shoulder, feeling the rather freeing effects of the alcohol course through her system as she caressed his jaw, her lips fluttering over his cheek as she nuzzled against him.

"I think I may be slightly drunk," she confessed, the faintest traces of a lisp present in her voice as she whispered into his ear, although still loud enough for FitzSimmons to overhear. Ward laughed, stroking her hair as she reclined against his chest, and he revelled in the feel of her in his arms, and her new willingness to do so in front of her best friends.

"Anyway, what about you..." Skye turned the question around suddenly, grinning almost smugly to herself as Fitz and Simmons both appeared momentarily dumb-founded.

"Well, there's several advancements in..." Jemma began, squealing as Fitz poked her in the ribs and rolled his eyes.

"They're not on about bloody science, woman," he responded, smile tugging at his lips as Simmons gazed across the dimly lit lounge at him, her eyes sparkling and cheeks rosy thanks to the alcohol she had consumed.

"I suppose I haven't given anything else much thought," Jemma finally answered, the blush that was present on the apples of her cheeks beginning to rise up to the tips of her ears. Softly, almost coyly, she added, "I certainly hope there will be... Someone special... Someone who looks at me like... Well, like the two of you look at each other."

She inclined her head towards Skye and Grant, before her gaze dropped self consciously to her hands.

Pursing her lips for a moment, Skye shrugged, her fingers entwining through Grant's as he knotted his hands over her stomach. "Maybe there already is."

Fitz and Simmons averted their gaze from each other almost immediately, and Skye sighed as she added, "If you love someone, you need to just... just be together."

She inclined her head at an angle that allowed her to peer up at the man whose arms she was enclosed within, and then she added, "Ward and I wasted so much time, and we can never get that back. We can't ever undo all the shitty things we did to each other. And for what, huh? Because after everything that happened, we ended up right back here... like I guess it was always meant to be. Don't waste time guys, just be happy together."

Clearing her throat, Simmons sprang up from her seat beside Fitz, "I think I saw another bag of chips. I don't know about you lot, but I'm famished."

Skye waited until Simmons had busied herself with hunting through the kitchen cabinets, before she caught Fitz's eye and mouthed a discrete _'tell her'_ as sternly as she could.

Fitz floundered, his gaze locked with Skye's, and he rubbed his palms along the legs of his pants in order to dry the sweat clinging to his palms. As Simmons fumbled around noisily in the kitchen, banging cabinet doors and tripping over her own feet, Fitz cleared his throat.

"Jemma..." he began, his eyes still on Skye, who offered him an encouraging and warm smile, "I..."

"Got them!" Simmons yelled out triumphantly, wheeling around to face the group just as Fitz elected to turn to regard her.

He gulped audibly, suddenly losing his nerve, and Skye felt her own features fall slack with disappointment as Fitz instead stammered, "Really want to play a game."

"How about 'truth or dare'?" Ward suggested goadingly, earning himself a dark look from Fitz almost immediately.

"Oooh, yes! That's a splendid idea!" Simmons enthused, dropping down heavily and tearing open the bag of chips in her hand. At the disbelieving looks Ward and Skye shot her, she added snootily, "I went to boarding school. How on earth do you think we whiled away the tedium?!"

Skye merely shrugged, indicating that it was a topic she had never really considered at any length. Her limited knowledge of a teenage Jemma Simmons suggested a predictably shy and awkward bookworm that had never once missed a homework deadline. Had the girl possessed an even slightly wild side, Skye would have had immense difficulty imagining what that might have entailed.

Falling back against Ward's chest again, Skye hummed her contentment as he encircled her in an embrace and bent his head to press a kiss to her cheek. His stubble grazed her skin and she sighed at the sensation, reaching back to run her fingers through his short, dark hair. The feel of him around her was almost overpowering, as if all of her senses were taken over by one man; his touch, his scent, the taste of his lips against hers, of his skin against her tongue, the almost reverent way he spoke her name, and the adoration that burned in his eyes whenever she found herself pinned by his gaze. It was a kind of longing and need she had never known before; it was, as Raina had once observed, love.

"Alright, I'll go first," Simmons stated, with a degree of enthusiasm that made the other three groan in unison.

"Skye! Truth or dare?" she settled on her victim, her eyes alive with glee.

"Ughh... Jemma..," Skye whined, burying her face in Ward's chest and then poking him accusingly, "this, is all your fault!"

Regarding her friend with an uneasy frown, Skye huffed, "Truth. I'm too tired for anything else."

Debating her question for only half a moment, Simmons demanded, "You and Ward... how long has this been going on?"

"Woah, okay, not pulling any punches, then," Skye grumbled, peering back across the room at Jemma, who only buried her hand in the bag of chips.

"It must be the truth, or you get a forfeit," Jemma replied from around a mouthful of food, crumbs spilling down her nightshirt.

Pursing her lips, Skye crossed her arms and affixed Jemma with a look that was half way between amused and irritated.

"Six months, give or take a week," Grant answered, before Skye could so much as open her mouth to respond. Simmons blinked in surprise, clearly having not expected an answer at all, much less from Ward himself. However, her expression softened a fraction as Ward offered her a smile, and his hand drifted almost absently down Skye's hip.

"We never wanted to hurt anyone, Jemma," Ward continued softly, "it was my idea to keep things quiet. I thought I was protecting Skye."

Jemma swallowed the mouthful of chewed food, and glanced down at the floor in a somewhat diplomatic gesture.

"Yes, well... probably for the best, in light of recent events."

Skye grew momentarily reflective, pondering the few short hours their relationship had been laid out in the open to their friends. Her fingertips caressed the back of Ward's hand as it lay splayed over her abdomen, and she deliberated over her words with a small smile.

"But this is good," she began, seeking out Jemma's gaze, "not having to hide. Not keeping secrets."

Jemma nodded thoughtfully, bunching up the top of the chip bag as she curled her legs underneath her. Lifting her gaze to Skye's, she added, "I wouldn't have betrayed your confidence, you know... if you'd told me. I'm not blind, Skye. I've seen the way you two look at each other. I... I would have understood."

In an attempt to lighten the moment, Fitz snatched up the bottle of whiskey and gestured with his thumb towards his fellow scientist. "That's just the booze talking."

Jemma shot him a sour look, which Fitz received with a chuckle, his eyes sparkling.

"It's true," Jemma countered, reaching for the whiskey bottle again, "I can be easy going."

Fitz and Skye snorted simultaneously with laughter, and it was only Grant who had the decency to hide his amusement behind his hand.

"I can..." Jemma protested, swigging quickly from the bottle. As a loud burp escaped her lips, Jemma looked momentarily mortified, but she appeared to recover from her embarrassment seconds later, just in time to take another long pull from the neck of the bottle.

Holding up a finger as though poised to express a valuable point, she winced at the burn of the whiskey in her throat, before she supplied, "I helped Skye... I can call you that again, can't I? The Daisy thing is just exhausting!"

Skye shrugged, about to reply when Simmons carried on, undeterred, and effectively cut her off.

"Anyway, I helped Skye..." she said with a triumphant grin, "hack into top secret files at the Hub... and, I shot Agent Sitwell in the chest... and possibly made a pass at him, so... _so there_!"

Skye giggled, nodding her head in wry agreement, "That is all true. She did do... all of those things."

Fitz shook his head, not wholly understanding the story, and perhaps a little uncertain as to whether he wanted to or not. Whilst Jemma had told him of her unfortunate altercation with the senior agent in question, she had not disclosed the hacking part, or anything to suggest that she might have been dangerously close to propositioning the man.

"What? I mean... Why?" Fitz shook his head, exchanging an equally confused glance with Ward.

"Oooh!" Jemma huffed indignantly, "to get you two back home safely, that's why!"

A strangely sentimental and yet slightly melancholy smile tugged at Skye's lips, and for just a second she allowed her mind to wander back to a less confusing time. Recalling her imploring words to her friend in that moment, she murmured softly, "Our boys."

Jemma grinned, nodding her head emphatically even as she too seemed to grow as equally reflective - the light in her eyes wistful and bright.

"That's right..." she recalled, glancing over at Skye, who lay so happily in Ward's arms that it seemed ludicrous that anybody in the world could begrudge them as much.

Jemma shot Fitz a shy but openly affectionate glance, and her hand wandered over to rest on his knee before she truly realised what she was doing. She squeezed his leg tight when he turned to regard her with surprise scrawled across his features, but also delight tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Into the sudden, content stillness, Jemma Simmons echoed, " _Our boys_."


	12. Out on the Beach, in the Wreck

__

Surveying the small kitchen area with a contented sigh, Skye inhaled the delicious aromas wafting from the pan Ward presided over. Her arms tightened around his waist, and she pressed her face into the centre of his broad back, smiling as he placed his free hand over hers, which sat clasped around his middle.

"They smell so good," she enthused, watching with obvious delight as he lifted out the two pale, golden pancakes from the griddle, and set them down onto the already sizeable pile on a nearby platter. She almost purred with content as Ward turned off the burner and moved to face her, instantly pulling her into his arms. He pressed a kiss into her hair and rubbed her back gently, and Skye took a moment just to breathe him in, to ground and centre herself and take the comfort she so desperately needed.

"You okay?" Ward asked, gazing down at her as she lifted her eyes to his face, and she managed a genuine smile as she nodded.

"We're all okay," she allowed, casting a glance over to where Fitz and Simmons lay entwined in their bed, still snoring, and still blissfully unaware that they were in such a compromising position. "That's all that matters right now, and the rest... I guess we'll figure out together."

His fingertips caressed the curve of her cheekbone, and she leant into his touch, giggling softly as Fitz let out a deafening snore. Just like that, the moment was broken.

"And you were worried we'd wake them up," Skye scoffed, grinning as she thought about Ward's earlier warning whilst the pair had sneaked off to the shower together.

"Well, that you'd wake them up," he corrected, chuckling as she swatted at his chest and her smile faded against his lips when he kissed her soundly.

"You know, I'm pretty sure we could have just had sex in our bed," she replied, her voice little more than a whisper, and her smile broadening as she recalled their hurried tryst in the rather cramped shower. "That shower curtain was kind of gross."

Ward returned her smile, the tip of his nose brushing hers as he appeared set to kiss her once again. "Well, there's always the bathroom counter next time."

"I like the sound of that," she cocked her head, suddenly whimpering as his mouth claimed hers, until the sound of an impossibly loud and obnoxious snort pulled them apart.

"Should we wake them?" Ward inquired, shooting a glance towards the still occupied bed, where Fitz and Simmons lay in a tangle of limbs that couldn't possibly have been described as comfortable.

Skye paused a moment, peering over her shoulder at the scientists and allowing a smirk to overtake her features as she noted how slumber allowed them to become so easily tactile. Simmons' leg was looped over Fitz's body, her head resting on his shoulder, and one of Fitz's arms curled almost protectively around Jemma. The other was flung over his head, and would undoubtedly be numb when he eventually awoke.

"Nah, they look so peaceful. Let's leave them a while longer," Skye decided, reaching for the syrup bottle that stood at the side of the stove top, "besides... More pancakes for me!"

Ward chuckled, grabbing his own plate and following Skye to the lounge, where she perched on the edge of the sofa in order to devour her breakfast, completely negating to stop for a knife and fork. Ward pulled a face but said nothing as he seated himself opposite his girlfriend, who was sucking on her fingers with her eyes half closed.

"I guess you're feeling better this morning?" Ward half quipped and yet managed still to inquire with a degree of concern present in his tone.

"Mm-hmm," Skye mumbled, grinning as his patented expression of disdain gave way to obvious affection. "I slept good, for like... the first time in ages, and... that shower was super stress relieving."

She held his gaze pointedly, her tongue tracing her top lip as she licked away a smear of syrup.

Ward's smile flourished into an entirely smug grin, and he dragged his gaze over her, whilst the brief recollection of their early morning encounter coloured his cheeks. Skye giggled and the sound made his heart swell with happiness; whatever danger they may face, whatever the uncertainties that clouded all of their futures, she was beside him, and as clichéd and ridiculous as it sounded, he was certain they could conquer the odds - together. It was, he was sure, how it was always meant to be.

"I'll make coffee," Skye stated, standing up and pausing to press a syrupy kiss against his lips. "And then I guess we really should wake up the Sleeping Beauties over there."

"I think it's probably best you do that. They wake up with me standing over them, and..." Ward trailed off, raising an eyebrow to convey his point. Skye rolled her eyes, kissing him one last time before she stood up and made her way over to the kitchen.

"I've got a better idea," she said quietly, her face a pantomime of innocence as she 'accidentally' let the plate clatter into the sink with undue force. Almost immediately Fitz and Simmons launched themselves into a semi-sitting position, their eyes half opened and their faces contorted in horror, as they first took in their rather telling embrace, and then their alien surroundings.

"What the bloody hell was that?" Fitz demanded, clawing at the bed covers as he and Simmons desperately sprang apart, and both of their faces turned a bright shade of red.

"What the bloody hell was what?" Skye asked innocently, her faux English accent immediately bringing a scowl to Simmons' features.

"Ugh, that hasn't improved," Simmons muttered, yawning loudly as she shuffled to the edge of the bed and swung her legs over the side.

"I can make more pancakes?" Ward offered, beginning to rise from the couch, only to be prevented by a swift shake of Fitz's head. Instead, the Scot jabbed a single finger in Skye's direction and scowled at her.

"Coffee," he barked, rubbing at his eyes with balled fists and sighing in irritation. It could never be said that Fitz was a morning person, which was just one more way in which he and Simmons seemed to compliment each other, given that the biochemist was capable of being articulate and sunny within ten minutes of waking - a feat that Skye herself was dumbfounded by.

Chuckling, Skye wordlessly filled up the coffee pot and began to hum as she watched the two scientists exchange glances, their cheeks mildly coloured by the embarrassment they still harboured at having been witnessed in such an emotionally compromising position.

Simmons rummaged through her bag, stuffing clean underwear under her arm as inconspicuously as possible as she hugged a pair of jeans and sweater to her chest.

"Did you want to..." she glanced over at Fitz, directing her gaze to the bathroom.

"Uh... No... I... You can uh... You can go first," Fitz managed through a smile, although the gesture was strained, and he watched Simmons' previously unreadable expression descend into something that resembled hurt.

"Fine. Thank you. I'll make sure not to use up all the hot water," she said curtly, smiling at Ward and Skye before she hurried towards the bathroom. The door closed with a quiet click, and immediately Skye rounded on the remaining scientist, her hand planted on her hip to display her displeasure.

"Okay, you two need to figure this out, cos this is... like... _painful_ to watch."

"Oh, shush. You're a fine one to talk," Fitz dismissed her comments with a huff, sitting down on the couch opposite Ward. He leant his elbows on his knees, scrubbing his face with both palms as he released a hearty sigh.

"Ward and I..." Skye began indignantly, only to be met with a dry scoff from Fitz, who shook his head at her.

"Not you and Ward," Fitz retorted, reaching for the coffee mug that Skye placed down in front of him, "you and that bloody USB stick."

Skye's mouth dropped open but she made no move to protest, sensing that whatever Fitz was about to say next was more than likely correct.

"You've been hanging onto that thing for hours now and don't think I haven't seen you staring at it and... fondling it..." Fitz accused, his eyes narrowed as he peered across the room at his outraged friend.

"I have not been..." Skye began, only to have her protests abruptly cut off by Fitz waving his hand.

"Fondling," he reiterated, "as if that will change whatever's on there. We need to know, Skye, and it's time to stop pussyfooting around. Coulson has gone all 'here's Johnny' and we need to know exactly how bad that is, so plug the bloody thing into your laptop and have at it."

"Fine," she replied evenly, her head tilted back in an act of defiance. "Soon as I've made coffee, I'll dig out my laptop."

"I'll finish up with the coffee," Ward offered, watching as she visibly started at his sudden presence behind her.

"Fitz is right," he said gently, his hand sliding around her waist in a comforting gesture. "We need to know, Skye."

Sighing heavily and with obvious trepidation, Skye moved unwillingly towards their bed, kneeling down to pull her bag out from underneath the ageing wooden structure. Hoisting out her laptop, she sat cross legged on the bed, digging the USB stick out of her jeans pocket before she slipped it into the port with a shaking hand.

"You know," Fitz said quietly, drawing both Ward and Skye's attention, "my old granny used to say..."

At Skye's glare, he quickly added, "Nobody cares what my granny had to say. Senile old bat. What's on the USB?"

Sighing heavily, Skye tapped at the keyboard for several moments, during which Ward and Fitz obliged her with a patient silence. The latter sipped at his coffee, whilst the former busied himself with tidying the kitchen area, whilst simultaneously shooting sly glances at Skye in order to check on her apparent mood. Her expression remained impassive, and Grant gathered that she was merely sifting through the useless material in favour of finding anything of a more incriminating nature.

Finally, after what must have been minutes of consistent silence, Skye's mouth dropped open, her eyes widened a fraction, and a strangled gasp escaped her lips.

Ward and Fitz stood side by side, each nursing a mug of fresh coffee as they watched Skye's expression closely. She sat hunkered down over the laptop screen, her legs crossed and her fingers toying with the ends of her hair as she used her free hand to scroll through the sensitive documents and emails they had managed to steal. Her hand suddenly flying to her mouth, she sat back and shook her head.

"No. No... he can't," she stammered.

"Skye?" Ward began, placing down his coffee mug before he crossed the room and sat down beside her. Skye simply shook her head, her hands covering her mouth, and her eyes wide with fresh tears. He turned the computer around, reading hurriedly as Fitz joined him and bent his head to read over the Specialist's shoulder.

"Oh my God..." Fitz hissed in evident disbelief, his expression paling as he glanced first at Skye, and then up at Ward. "He wouldn't... He couldn't do that to Skye... He... No. I... It can't be true."

Ward and Fitz only managed to exchange the briefest of glances before Simmons stumbled back into the lounge, a towel wrapped around her damp hair and her folded pyjamas clutched in her arms.

"Is there a hairdryer..." she began, falling silent as she noted the similar looks of devastation spread across her friends faces. "What happened? Have they found us?"

Her voice was fraught with so much unmasked fear at the prospect that Ward managed to flash her a small, reassuring smile before he shook his head.

"No. Coulson's emails," Fitz explained, hooking a thumb in the direction of the screen, which held Skye's attention as though it contained that night's winning lottery numbers.

"What do they say?" Jemma inquired hesitantly, not entirely certain that she wanted to know the answer to the question she posed. It was clear from the slump of Grant's shoulders and the grim set of his lips that there was no good news to be heralded, and the way in which Skye's chin quivered as though she were biting back tears with some force did nothing to assuage Jemma's worries.

"Come on, out with it," Jemma encouraged when nobody uttered so much as a squeak, "it can't be as bad as all that, surely."

Hugging her knees to her chest, Skye's lip trembled as she haphazardly brushed a tear from her cheek with the back of her hand.

"The woman we found in the forest... she talked about a camp, she said it was where they'd taken her son," she paused to take in a steadying breath as she added, "it's real... it's part of a military installation in Virginia. Coulson's working with the president. They're testing out the cure."

Simmons shook her head, as if not quite believing what she was hearing. "But... No. That can't be right, the cure's still experimental, we don't even know if it will work yet, it's not ready for clinical trials."

Skye's lips set into a line of grim determination as she turned the laptop around so Jemma could read the reams of data and view the subject photographs that had been contained in some of the emails.

"It's killing them..." Simmons gasped, her hand fluttering to her mouth. Her brow furrowed as she read on, and she glanced up sharply at her three friends as she struggled to take in the words before her. "No... This can't be right, this... this talks of a mass... a mass..."

"Sterilisation project," Skye finished off, brushing away further tears, although this time of anger. "Well, I guess it deals with their 'Inhuman problem'."

"We'd be wiped out within a generation," Ward stated, his tone cold as his fury seeped into his words. He rested a hand on Skye's shoulder, his grip gentle and yet reassuring, and she reached up to brush her fingers against his in a gesture of quiet solidarity. Whilst FitzSimmons were undoubtedly aghast at what Coulson had not only sanctioned but apparently adopted an active role in, only Skye and Grant could truly understand how it felt to be victimised in such a manner; effectively, to become the subjects of an ethnic cleansing that would see to it that their DNA died with them.

"What about Molly?" Fitz demanded, suddenly springing to life as he reached for the mousepad and began scrolling through the opened files, "any word on her or her boyfriend?"

"Nothing that mentions either of them directly, but I'm willing to bet we'd find them both at Coulson's little Inhuman Summer camp," Skye replied bitterly, closing her eyes as she pushed the laptop away, and Simmons instead took up residence in front of it.

"Do we know what they were going to do once Ward..." Simmons swallowed hard, shooting a glance at Grant, "well, once you were out of the way. What about Skye? He can't have thought she'd go along with it all?"

"Her name's on a reserve list," Ward explained patiently, sitting down beside Skye, who almost instantly shuffled closer to be nearer to him. "If he couldn't get her on side, he... he..."

His jaw clenched, and Skye closed her eyes momentarily as he pressed a kiss against her temple.

"A quick trip to the vets, and then TAHITI," Skye finished, trying not to let her utter heartbreak tear down the last vestiges of control she was managing to hold on to. "I guess my powers make me too useful to throw out with the rest of the Inhuman trash."

Jemma sat down heavily on the end of the bed, her damp towel clutched to her chest as she stared straight ahead, her mind a turmoil of regret and despair. She'd thought at one time that they were a family, and she'd come to have great affection for their leader and the paternal presence he had at first offered to the young agents. To think of him initiating and carrying out such insidious acts was almost too much to contemplate.

"I need to get some air," Skye barked, swinging her legs over the side of the bed and standing up decisively. She felt her control over her powers teetering over a dangerous precipice, and the more angry and hurt she grew as the seconds mounted, the stronger the vibrations that coursed through her skin.

"Lock the door, keep a look out... we won't be gone long," Ward directed the two scientists, not even questioning if Skye wanted company, but joining her at her side in an instant.

His back was already turned when FitzSimmons both began to vigorously nod, their attentions affixed concernedly on Skye's retreating form. The door of the cabin slammed behind the woman and Ward winced as the walls themselves rattled, before quickening his pace as he worked to catch her up. When he finally broke out onto the front porch, Skye was nowhere to be seen, but the ground was trembling ever so slightly underfoot. Deciding that the lake would perhaps be the place she was most likely to head towards, Grant stepped off the porch and ploughed into the trees, wearing his worry for Skye clearly in his expression.

After several minutes that seemed to drag on into an impossible eternity, Ward reached the edge of the lake, where he spotted Skye standing on the wooden jetty that jutted out into the water. Her arms encircled her body and he could tell from the look of sheer concentration on her face that she was working hard to contain her powers - to push them back under the surface of her skin, where she could best control them.

"Skye," Ward called out, approaching her quickly with his arms open. She came to him willingly and with a soft sob escaping her, and when Grant pulled her into his chest, his fingers brushing the back of her hand, he noted the bruises beginning to mottle the skin on her hands and wrists.

"Don't do that, baby," he murmured softly, kissing the crown of her head, "let it out. It's safe here."

Her eyes remained fixed on the rippling water, and she sighed, "They'll be looking for us by now... tracking any unusual seismic activity."

"It's a lake, Skye. A few little tremors isn't going to make anybody pay attention. Besides, we've got Coulson's entire science division back in that damn cabin."

Lifting her wrists up for inspection, he bent his head and kissed her skin, frowning at the bruises that had already appeared.

"Let go..." he reiterated, pulling her towards the edge of the jetty, where she immediately crouched down and peered out across the water. Closing her eyes for a moment, she knelt on the edge and dipped her hands into the water, the cold slightly soothing against her aching limbs. Releasing a slow breath, she slid her hands under the surface, and almost immediately the ground beneath Ward's feet began to shake, and circles rippled out across the lake, sending tiny waves crashing against the banks.

"How could he do this to us?" Skye demanded, her eyes sliding closed as the water began to burble and flow with increased ferocity, "to me?"

"I can't answer those questions," Ward replied, his tone measured and soothing, just as he knew Skye needed it to be for the moment. His own anger was festering beneath the surface, and although he knew that it was hardly healthy - had had a half dozen therapists tell him as much - Grant was an expert at compartmentalising, and it was that skill that had allowed him to learn to control his own destructive abilities so quickly. Unlike Skye, who had a tendency to simply suppress her emotions whilst they warred inside her, which could wreak devastating effects on her body when her powers came into play, Ward could simply snuff them out without so much as a second thought; it was something that Garrett had spent years teaching him, and perhaps the only thing the man had done that Ward had come to appreciate over time. It was that level of control that had allowed him to embrace his Inhumanity and the abilities it had bestowed on him, and finally become a part of the Secret Warriors initiative. To think that everything they had worked so hard for had gone up in smoke without them even realising was enough to ignite Ward's temper and frustration and a hundred other negative emotions, but one simple deep breath was all it took for him to clear that slate, and to press on with whatever needed to be done next.

Jamming his hands into his pockets, Ward narrowed his eyes as he watched the surface of the water begin to calm once again.

"We'll leave in the morning," he stated definitely, catching the slightly surprised expression on Skye's face. He smiled faintly as he offered, "That's what you were going to say next; that we need to find the camp."

"Am I that predictable?" she allowed a brief flicker of a smile to cross her lips.

"Only to me," he assuaged her, winking at her before she turned back to survey the lake. "We'll rest up tonight, come up with something that resembles a plan, then leave before dawn."

"They'll be looking for the quin jet. It's only a matter of time before they manage to enable the tracking device again," Skye said worriedly, chewing on her bottom lip as she contemplated the journey ahead of them.

"Then I guess we're road tripping," Ward replied easily, his smile at the prospect almost delighted - no doubt as he realised that his penchant for grand theft auto was poised upon being satisfied.

"I don't even know where to start with this, Grant," Skye breathed, and suddenly she both looked and sounded so genuinely tired that Ward's heart ached for her. Silently, he stooped down so that he was crouching on the jetty behind her, and he gripped her elbows as he gently but firmly pulled her arms from the water. Although still shocked and evidently afraid, she seemed to have regained control of herself, and Ward was eager to gather her back into his arms, where she belonged.

Her hands were wet against the fabric of his black Henley, but Ward couldn't find it within himself to care. He stroked the back of her head with one hand and used the other to pin her to his body, where she stayed willingly, her head propped on his shoulder.

Finally, he recalled her statement, and replied, "We're not in this alone. We have two of the smartest people in the entire world in our corner. We'll find a way to set this right."

"Don't let them hear you say that... there'll be no living with them," Skye chuckled, pressing her face into the crook of his neck and inhaling the scent of his skin with a sudden sense of comfort overcoming her.

She felt a rumble of laughter against her palms, and he kissed her temple before he replied, "I'm pretty sure they both already know that."

"Let's stay out here a while... give them some time alone," Skye began, smoothing her palms over Ward's chest and tilting her head imploringly as she met his gaze.

"Skye... don't meddle," he warned, "they'll figure it out sooner or later. And... maybe right now isn't the best time to be starting something."

Skye leant back in his arms and regarded him with amusement.

"Oh, really?!" She grinned, snuggling back into his arms as he rolled his eyes at her inference and their own somewhat tangled history.

"Let me put it another way..." Ward bent his head and whispered in her ear, "we have to share a room with them."

Giggling, Skye shot back, "Only for tonight. Tomorrow, we hit the road."

Ward smiled as he watched some of the tension that held Skye's back ramrod straight begin to ebb away, and her shoulders relaxed somewhat. He reached out and brushed a stray tendril of hair away from her eyes with one hand, whilst he placed the other on her hip so that his arm encompassed her. The sigh she breathed was barely there, but Ward detected it nonetheless, and he leaned down to kiss away the remainder of her anxiety and fear.

"You know I've always got your six, right?" Skye suddenly inquired, craning her neck in order to peer up at Grant, who smoothed his palm across the apple of her cheek in response without a second thought.

"Baby, you've got nothing to prove to me," he replied, bending to brush the tip of his nose against hers. Skye's eyelids fluttered closed and she murmured her contentment at the gesture.

"It's true though," she persisted, eyelids flickering open, her wide pupils focusing on his features, "whatever happens here... Whatever we choose to do, or whatever Coulson throws at us, we stick together... Protect each other."

Ward held her gaze, letting his hand slide up the back of her neck as he drew her closer, pressing their foreheads together.

"I promise you, Skye, wherever you go, I go," he vowed, tilting his head and kissing her tenderly, his lips lingering over hers. "I love you... and I'll always fight for you."

She smiled at the admission, her fingers curling around the back of his neck to keep him drawn to her.

"Fight _with_ me instead?" she asked, releasing a long held breath as he gathered her closer.

"Maybe a little of both?" he suggested as he brushed a kiss against her neck, and she felt his lips curl against her skin.

"I guess we should get back inside before Fitz and Simmons hyperventilate," Skye said, chuckling as she added, "or maybe we should stay outside until Fitz hyperventilates and Simmons is forced to give him the kiss of life."

Laughing in response, Ward began to guide Skye back along the jetty and to the bank of the lake, which had finally begun to calm again following Skye's below the surface expression of her power.

They strolled through the small expanse of trees, heading back towards the cabin, and Skye couldn't help but note the far away, almost wistful expression on his face. His hand clutched in hers, she squeezed his fingers to draw his attention.

"What're you thinking about?"

Ward shook his head, sighing through an almost smile as he replied sadly, "Last time I was here, I had nothing. I was just a scared kid that nobody wanted."

"And now?" Skye asked, although the way his eyes ran slowly over her face hinted at his response.

"Now?" he repeated, his smile awestruck as he gazed down at the woman beside him, "Now... I have everything."

But, of course, what he really meant was, _'I have you'_.


	13. Higher, High Again

Helplessness was a feeling that Skye had once grown accustomed to. As a child in the care of an ailing government system, the lack of her own autonomy had registered in her mind by the time she was on the cusp of young adulthood, and she had hated it with everything she had in her. Every aspect of life was decided for her - from the stark white colour of her shared bedroom walls at the orphanage, to the contents of her brown bag lunch, to the latest family that would get to pull her through the emotional ringer before deciding she was in some way 'unsuitable'.

Running away from St. Agnes' as a teenager and becoming involved with both Miles Lydon and The Rising Tide had been a turning point of sorts for Skye; one where she had finally begun to realise her potential, and the power she in fact wielded over her own destiny. As her confidence as a hacker and theoretical freedom fighter grew, those feelings had all but melted away, leaving Skye with a kind of brash confidence that only hinted at how jaded she had become. At the time, she had assumed that she had come a long way - and yet retrospect was a powerful tool.

Joining S.H.I.E.L.D. years later had been a different ball game entirely, and Skye had once again been forced to deal with her own inadequacy among an organisation where the majority of members could have taken her apart piece by piece, without breaking a sweat. Both in and out of the field, their physical superiority had never failed to conjure those long repressed feelings of impotence, and for a time Skye had struggled again with the sense that she was somehow 'less'. Training with first Ward and then May had helped a little, but Skye had found it harder to shake those feelings, as though they were reluctant to let her be a second time.

When the latest chapter of her life had dawned, and Skye had found herself changed not only mentally but physically by her Inhuman DNA, the power she had suddenly found herself wielding had left her feeling, for a time, nigh on invincible. When she could stop bullets with a wave of the hand and fling a prospective attacker into oncoming traffic with just a flick of her wrist, there was precious little capable of making her feel weak any more. However, logic had eventually caught up with Skye - her own mortality reflected in the fear worn on the faces of her loved ones whenever she returned from battle bloodied and bruised. Whilst she had resolved to always be cautious, sensible, careful, she had rejoiced in the knowledge that she would never again be defenceless, nor so utterly uncertain of what was to come that she would feel that same terror that had consumed an unwanted five year old with teary eyes and scraped knees. Her fate was finally of her own making.

And yet, sitting in front of a barren stone fireplace that could not be lit for fear of the attention it might attract, Skye had begun to realise just how wrong she had been. Those same wholly familiar and desperately loathed feelings had crept up upon her again, settling in the pit of her stomach, where they laid heavy and uncomfortable. She was no longer the master of her own destiny, nor remotely in control of her situation; she was hunted, afraid, in over her head and, in short, utterly helpless.

The ball of nervous anxiety that weighed down on her chest was expelled without thought as a loud, heavy-hearted sigh, and it was only moments later that she felt a familiar presence behind her, comforting even in his silence. She leant back into his embrace, though her gaze remained fixed on the cold, sombre hearth.

Grant pressed his cheek to her temple and she inched closer, the feel of his stubble against her skin so familiar that she felt her anxiety ratchet up as the reality of all she stood to lose seized her.

"Come on, we need you," Ward coaxed softly. Her stare pinned him in place as she studied his face, her fingertips drifting up to caress his cheek whilst she drank in every detail of his features from his long, dark lashes to the angular line of his jaw. Leaving one arm securely around her waist, he lifted her hand from his cheek and kissed her fingertips.

"Skye?" Simmons called out, offering her friend a sincere smile as she sought out the hacker's gaze, "I made some tea and sandwiches."

"Thanks," Skye returned the smile with difficulty, but she forced herself to shake free of her maudlin thoughts when she felt Ward press a kiss against the juncture of her neck, "I guess we've got work to do."

Fitz had already settled in the armchair in the corner of the lounge and so Simmons lowered herself down at his feet, balancing a serving plate of sandwiches on her crossed legs. A tray of mismatched mugs dominated the centre of the coffee table along with a plate of cookies that Ward had retrieved from the store, doubtlessly to lighten the moods of his friends, considering such things were rarely a part of his usual diet. Skye had noted that he had softened a great deal in the hours proceeding their escape from the Playground, perhaps realising that his younger, less experienced companions would need time to recover from their ordeal both mentally and physically before they would be capable of rallying round to combat their problems. She had to admit that she was grateful for his sensitivity, given the state of her mood and the somewhat tenuous grip she was maintaining on her powers. Discovering the truth about Coulson had shaken her more than she cared to admit, or had expected, but she had come to realise in the past few hours that she had used Coulson to fill a void in her life that neither of her birth parents had been capable of. To all intents and purposes, Phil Coulson had assumed the role of her father, mentor and protector, almost from the moment she had first set foot on the Bus just a handful of years ago. To suddenly not only lose him but to have him betray her in such a horrifying manner had all but crushed the last of her resolve, and it was taking everything that Skye had left to just maintain the façade of interest in the plan that her friends were attempting to formulate.

"Skye?" Simmons pressed, her tone gentle but firm, "did you hear what I said?"

Skye only blinked, eyes ticking first somewhat guiltily to Jemma before sliding down into her own lap, where she fidgeted by picking at her nails.

"Sorry," Skye mumbled, swallowing hard as she felt Ward's hand land on her shoulder. "I zoned out."

Simmons smiled as Skye took a seat on the edge of the ramshackle old couch, her arms folded on her knees whilst she leant forward to survey the laptop screen and maps laid out on the table with a mixture of interest and trepidation.

"Peanut butter chip... your favourite!" Jemma enthused, lifting up the cookie plate and offering it to Skye. She accepted a snack merely to please her friend, breaking it in two and nibbling on the edge of one half. Ward sat down beside her and he landed his hand reassuringly on her knee as he gestured for Fitz to pull up the correct image on screen.

"From what we can gather from the emails back and forth between Coulson and Ellis, there's maybe five to six hundred people being held in the camp," Ward began, "it's forty miles outside of Virginia and security's tight. There's an electrified fence around the perimeter, and one way in and out... here, at the north east corner."

He pointed at the screen, letting his finger drift across the image, "We've got Army Rangers plus S.H.I.E.L.D. foot soldiers and the place is under constant aerial surveillance in a controlled air space."

"I get it. Nobody goes in or out," Skye replied somewhat sharply, placing the two uneaten halves of her cookie down onto the table and brushing off her hands. "So what do we do? You're the strategist here, Grant. How do we break in?"

Ward exchanged a pointed glance with Simmons, "We don't. We have someone let us in."

Skye paused, dropping back against the couch cushions as she regarded her boyfriend and friend in turn, a somewhat sceptical look crossing her features.

"I take it you have a better plan than 'ask politely'," Skye stated rather than inquired, crossing her legs as she settled back and waited for either Grant or Jemma to elaborate on the details of the scheme they had obviously hatched between them.

"Oh ye of little faith," chided Simmons, excitement creeping into her voice as she paused to slide a small, hexagonal silver device across the surface of the coffee table. Skye's hand shot out and she stilled the box-like object with her fingertips, before cocking her head at Jemma in questioning. All Jemma offered was a smile, and so Skye plucked the device from the table and raised it to eye level, examining it from all angles in the dim light.

"Ah, 'The Motherboard'," Fitz exclaimed, sitting up suddenly straighter and making a grab for the article in the palm of Skye's hand, although he failed at the last moment when she withdrew from his reach. Completely undeterred, he continued with obvious excitement, his eyes never wavering from the device, "I thought it was still in the lab, lost at the base along with everything else we've busted our arses working on for Coulson over the years. I never imagined you'd be sneaky enough, you clever girl!"

Blushing, Simmons shot her friend a grin, "Well, there was a little time before we broke into the Vault to rescue you both. It seemed silly not to."

" 'The Motherboard?'" Skye repeated, her nose wrinkling with her frown. "Anyone want to fill me in?"

Shooting a look at Ward, she frowned as he shrugged and gestured toward the scientists with a wave of his hand.

Skye clutched the item in her fingers and arched a brow, keen to prompt Jemma into a reply, "Okay, so?"

"Well..." Jemma began, eyes sparkling, "it's all rather ingenious, really. You see, S.H.I.E.L.D. are..." She paused, her mouth setting into a line briefly before she corrected herself, "I mean, _were_... always looking for a way to take down enemy agents in a non-violent manner. We were asked to look at ways of, um, well... I suppose you'd call it um..."

"Mind control," Fitz chipped in, his smile equally as bright and proud as Jemma's.

"Mind control?" Skye repeated, exchanging glances with Ward, who seemed similarly confused.

"This little device attaches to the spinal cord and sends impulses to the cerebellum, giving us full control of the subjects movement and actions. We um... we hadn't quite worked out the control of speech yet, but..."

Skye shook her head, as if not quite understanding, nevertheless she ploughed on, "So this little box turns people into meat puppets?"

Almost pouting, Jemma plucked the item from Skye's hand and closed her fingers around it in a gesture that was noticeably protective.

Sniffing as though she had been affronted in some way, Jemma retorted, "It's a far more humane way of subduing an enemy than murdering them."

"But, guys, we're talking about brain washing here," Skye said, her gaze ticking to Ward, who glanced away in obvious discomfort as he sensed where she was directing the conversation, "that makes us no better than Hydra."

"Ah, no, on the contrary," Fitz declared brightly, his own beaming smile only growing as he gently pried the 'Motherboard' from Jemma's fingers and held it out again to Skye. "The effects are temporary. We only have a half hour window maximum to operate within. We control everything from a computer, sending messages via satellite to the core of the device, and once we've achieved our aim, we can disengage the Motherboard from the host with a few commands. It detaches and the host is left with a nasty headache, but their thoughts and actions will be completely their own again."

Skye glanced to her side, watching as Ward nodded his head as he digested the information FitzSimmons presented them with. She watched as a smile slowly twitched at his lips, clearly impressed with their efforts.

"And it's been trialled?" Ward asked, his eyebrows shooting up to his hairline as each scientist appeared suddenly hesitant.

"Uh...Well. Not exactly," Fitz stammered, clearing his throat whilst Jemma managed a simple almost inaudible 'no'.

Skye widened her eyes, "Okay, so... You want to try this thing out for the first time now? I... I mean... Do we even know if it'll work? There's a lot at stake here, guys."

"It'll work," Fitz said definitely, nodding his head vigorously along with Simmons.

Sucking in a breathe, her eyes ticking back to the object held within Fitz's thumb and forefinger, Skye nodded her own agreement both slowly and reluctantly.

"I guess it's the best shot we have," she replied, gesturing to the device, "I just hope it's enough."

"You said you hadn't worked out the speech part? What's that supposed to mean?" Ward inquired, arching a brow as he regarded Fitz, who seemed to blush at the sudden reminder of one of the device's shortcomings.

"Ah, well, the hope was that, given more time, we would be able to tap into the part of the brain that controls speech, and ideally feed our host 'lines' in order to achieve a desired objective," Fitz began, pausing when Grant shook his head.

"Fitz, we need to know what we're working with here," Ward reminded him, prompting a soft sigh from the scientist.

Fitz cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable with discussing the short-comings of their rather ingenious invention, which, time allowing, could have changed the very face of espionage; quite literally.

"Well, we can disable their speech, but..."

"Disable their speech?" Ward repeated, "so... you guys can control their physical actions, but they're mute?"

"Essentially, yes," Simmons agreed, a brief smile flickering across her lips as she added teasingly, "I imagine it's something like Skye first thing in the morning."

"Hey!" the aforementioned hacker protested, shooting Ward an outraged frown as he chuckled at the Brit's summation. Shrugging, he flashed her a charming smile, which she dismissed with a roll of her eyes. There was a soft sound of vibration and then Ward suddenly reached for his phone, scanning the screen quickly before he cast a glance at each of his friends.

Making a mental reminder to ask him about the nature of the message later, Skye pushed on with the matter at hand, "How does this fit into our plan to break into the camp?"

"We overpower someone on the outside of the perimeter fence, fit the device to the specific point on the base of the neck, and then we send him back in to disable the security and open up the doors," Jemma explained, a nervous smile forming on her lips as she added, "that's about as refined as that part of the plan has become."

Unable to prevent her knee from bouncing up and down of its own accord as her nerves began to get the better of her again, Skye reached across and grasped Grant's hand in her own. His fingers closed around hers quickly and tightly, and he brushed the pad of his thumb over her warm, smooth skin.

Clearing his throat in a demonstration of discomfort, Fitz exchanged glances with Jemma and for a brief moment the two scientists appeared lost for words.

"Guys?" Skye began uncertainly, her eyes narrowed as she noted the similar expressions of unease that had settled on their faces. "What aren't you telling us?"

Scratching the back of his head, Fitz stammered weakly, "Well, the uh... the doo-dah itself won't work unless we have the software... and I'm betting that that is..."

"Not in our possession..." Jemma finished.

Heaving a pained sigh, Skye threw her hands up in defeat and scooted to the front of the chair.

"Alright, I get it. What do I need to hack?"

She glanced to her side as she noted Ward scrolling through a message on his phone industriously before he slid it back into his pocket the moment he felt her eyes land on him. He shrugged off her curious gaze and stood from his seat with apparent purpose.

"Just the lab. If you can get into my user account then everything we need will be there," Jemma said, her excitement returning as she regarded Skye and rubbed her hands together as she spoke.

"Okay, that's not too difficult. I guess I've done it before," Skye reasoned, her gaze sliding sideways to Grant, who had been silent on the matter of their forming plan for quite some time and had moved to stand near the kitchen island at the far end of the cabin. Offering her boyfriend a smile, Skye arched a questioning eyebrow in his direction, only to find herself somewhat frustrated when he only responded with a shake of his head. His expression was unreadable, as was his body language, and Skye resolved not to even bother trying to decipher either, knowing that Grant was such a master at not disclosing his feelings that the task would prove impossible.

"Okay, so, Skye and Jemma will work on that, and I suppose I'll..." Fitz began, falling silent as Grant interjected abruptly from across the room.

"Pack our things, make sure that when we leave this place tomorrow, there's no signs of anyone having been here recently," Ward commanded rather than proposed, his eyes lingering on Skye's face before returning to Fitz, who appeared surprised at the instructions he had received.

"Are we going somewhere?" Jemma asked, blinking with wide eyed surprise at Ward, who nodded.

"New safe house. We can't stay in one place for too long, we don't want Coulson catching up with us," Grant explained, pausing only to offer Jemma a kindly and reassuring smile, although his eyes betrayed nothing, remaining devoid of all warmth. Skye peered at him closely, her suspicions in overdrive.

"I'll fund us a car, and we'll leave at dawn," said Grant, shooting a glance at Skye as he pressed, "can you get the software we need downloaded by then?"

"Yeah, I think so," she replied, rising to her own feet as Grant picked up his now well worn leather jacket and shrugged it on. She followed him over towards the door and cast a discreet glance at FitzSimmons, glad that they seemed too caught up in discussing the finer points of the S.H.I.E.L.D. mainframe to take much notice of her and Ward.

"Going somewhere?" Skye arched an eyebrow, trying and failing to not let Grant see her unease. Ward placed his hand on her shoulder and shepherded her towards the cabin front door.

"I'm going to meet an old friend of mine."

"An old Hydra friend?" Skye planted her hand on her hip, watching as a smirk tugged at the corners of his lips for a matter of seconds before he managed to iron out his expression again.

"No," he shook his head, searching out her eyes and holding her in his steady gaze as he added quietly, "just an old buddy, that's all. I'll be back in a couple of hours. Lock the door and don't let those two out of your sight."

Deciphering the suspicion crossing her features easily, Ward bent his head and raised his hand to caress her cheek. "Skye... In all the time I've been on your team, have I ever once given you a reason not to trust me?"

"No," she said quietly, placing her hand over his and leaning into his touch. "I guess not."

"You guess not?" Ward repeated, his tone amused. He tenderly squeezed Skye's hand and she consented to chuckle.

"No, you haven't," she clarified, reaching out and smoothing the pad of her thumb over Ward's slightly parted lips. Spurred on by her actions, Ward leaned forward and dropped a kiss against her mouth, his hand fastening to her hip and dragging her close. When he pulled away only seconds later, he was wearing an assuring smile.

"And I never will," he promised before taking a step backwards and throwing up a mock salute to his girlfriend, who scoffed openly at the gesture.

"Be safe," she called out in warning as the front door of the cabin swung closed behind Grant, sealing out the darkness of the surrounding forest.

Skye watched him disappear into the trees through the windowpane in the door before she tugged the moth-eaten, dusty drape across and turned around to begin facing her own task. Though Grant had assured her otherwise, she couldn't help but think he was up to something. Although the nature of his deception was less clear, Skye so desperately needed to believe in all the promises he had made, and his vow to never hurt her again. Of course, that suggested that Grant was perhaps engaged in some sort of kamikaze mission - the likes of which he had been recklessly conducting when he had first joined her team and had been desperate to prove himself.

Deciding to think nothing further of it for the time being, and realising there was a mission at hand to focus on, Skye took a slow breath and made her way back over to her friends, who were hastily packing up their belongings as instructed.

"Ward going somewhere?" Jemma inquired, and Skye could hear the poorly concealed suspicion in her friend's tone almost immediately.

"Leave it alone, Jemma," she sighed, running her hands through her hair before she scooped up her trusty laptop and perched cross-legged on the bed.

Holding up both hands in a gesture of silent surrender, Jemma returned to stuffing pairs of balled up socks into her modestly sized duffel, whilst Fitz worked at her side to jam his clothing into his own bag.

"We can trust Grant with our lives," Skye continued, her voice drawing the gazes of both scientists, who listened in silence as she spoke, "he got us out of the Playground, he's kept us under S.H.I.E.L.D.'s radar so far, and he'd die before he'd let anything happen to a single one of us."

Jemma nodded, her features melting into a mask of regret as she realised the truth behind Skye's affirmation, and that Ward had indeed done nothing but put his life on the line to ensure their safety in the last few days.

"I know," she agreed, bowing her head almost remorsefully as she added, "sorry, Skye."

Returning her attention to the screen before her, Skye worked on industriously, trying to dispel the sinking feeling creeping up from her gut, which insisted that Ward was most definitely keeping a secret.

She had had enough of those to last a lifetime.

x-x-x

Strolling down the hall of the small-town hotel, key card poised in his hand, Grant Ward cast a glance around him before he stood in front of the door marked with a faded, brass '114'. He paused momentarily, affixing a smirk in place as he deftly opened the door and slipped inside, unsurprised to find a pair of wide blue eyes immediately landing on him.

"Figured I was being stood up," drawled the redhead reclined somewhat provocatively on the bed. She drew her legs underneath her as she sat up straighter and regarded him, something in her gaze almost appraising.

"I had a few things to take care of, that's all," Grant assured her, reaching blindly around the door to hang the 'Do Not Disturb' sign over the handle. When he turned around she was standing before him, a cascade of red curls bobbing over her shoulder as she cocked her head and slid closer. Lips drawn into a tight line, she reached out and, with lightning speed, slapped him hard across the face. The sound of skin against skin reverberated around the four walls, and Ward's hand flew up to nurse his cheek, whilst the woman glared at him with growing impatience.

"That's for the Hydra crap," she explained, turning on her heel and fishing a bottle of champagne out of the ice bucket on the nightstand. Filling a long stemmed glass, she drank down a gulp as she stated, "So, let's get down to it shall we? I'm a busy girl, Agent Ward... Places to go, people to see, you know how it is."

"You're keen," Ward admonished, massaging his cheek, mostly for effect than as a consequence of actual lingering pain; if the red head had wanted to inflict that upon him, there were a hundred other ways she could do so without even chipping a nail.

Ward stood up straighter and shrugged out of his jacket, tossing it over the back of a nearby chair as he all but sauntered further into the bedroom. She smirked at him, tossing back the rest of the champagne in her glass and setting about refilling it almost instantly.

Finally drawing to a standstill at the foot of the bed, upon which the woman had returned to collapse against the mound of pillows, Ward fished in his pocket and stabbed the power button on his cell phone, ensuring that they would not be interrupted.

"How long do we have?" the woman demanded, her eyes lingering on the bulge in Ward's pocket, where he had dropped the cell back into his pants.

Patting the device, Ward replied, "About an hour before they get worried. Ninety minutes tops before they start hacking things they shouldn't and land us all in a world of trouble."

Cocking her head, the redhead eyed him almost dismissively, "Glad you decided to leave the little wifey at home. You know threesomes really aren't my thing."

Rolling his eyes and smiling despite his impatience, Ward stepped closer to the bed, beginning to remove each concealed weapon from his person with exaggeratedly slow movements.

She nodded her approval as the mini arsenal of weaponry was assembled before her, then relocated to the nightstand, out of sight but never out of mind, as was prudent for those in their line of work. A smug grin illuminated her face whilst she poured a glass of champagne that may well have been her third or fourth, and then sat back against the pillows.

All efforts at pretence bluntly abandoned, Ward lifted his hands to exhibit that he was now out of weapons to surrender.

"You know what I came here for... let's get down to business, shall we?!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We know, we know - we suck! Apologies for the long time between updates, but one of us has been sent on a five week med school clinical in the ar** end of nowhere, and the other has been on jury duty!!   
> We hope to resume with regular updates from now on! :)


	14. I Know Hell Follows Me

__

In the end, they left before dawn, just a handful of hours after Ward had returned to the cabin. Their belongings had been packed up and waited in a neat mound by the door, whilst every single trace of their existence at the safe house had been scrubbed clean. Fitz was certain that not so much as a hair fibre remained after the thorough going over he had given the place, whilst Jemma and Skye had slept in a heap on the couch, where they had crashed after hacking into the lab to download the software for the Motherboard.

The drive had been largely silent until sunrise on account of the fact that FitzSimmons and Skye had continued to slumber in their seats, whilst Ward had resolved to put as much distance between them and the cabin as possible. When Skye finally started to come round, roused by the rays of sunlight beginning to permeate the windscreen, they were well over a hundred and fifty miles away from the Catskills.

"Do you want me to take over for a while?" Skye inquired, stifling a yawn with one hand as she sat up straighter in her seat. She shot a glance at Ward, whose eyes were trained on the horizon, although he directed attention to the rear view mirror every so often to ensure they weren't being followed.

"First thing you've said to me since I got back," Ward replied, his eyes still affixed on the road ahead. He diverted his gaze for only a moment and Skye fidgeted in her seat, yanking at the seatbelt, her expression immediately souring.

"So..." Grant prompted, casting a glance over the seat to ensure that their friends were still asleep - although Fitz's snores were enough reassurance that the Scot was indeed happily slumbering.

Skye sighed, staring out of the side window into the fading dusk that surrounded them. Pursing her lips, she cast a decidedly testy glance in his direction. Her temper and her need for an explanation finally got the better of her, and she turned in her seat to face him, pausing as a car's headlights briefly lit up the road ahead as it passed them.

"So... You're gone for four hours and come back smelling of... I'd like to say cheap perfume, but it smells kind of expensive to me... Makes a girl think, Ward." She watched as he blinked repeatedly, a sure sign that he was caught off-guard by her reply.

But instead of protesting his innocence, he shot her a sideways look that conveyed little as he pressed, "What exactly are you accusing me of, Skye?"

"I…" Skye faltered, suddenly silent and shaking her head. Quietly, hesitantly, she finished, "You don't need me to spell it out for you, Grant."

Ward said nothing, his gaze locked straight ahead and his jaw tensed in a demonstration of his annoyance. He flexed his fingers on the steering wheel, and he sucked a deep breath in through his nose in an effort to dispel his mounting anger. He had never been anything but loyal to Skye in a physical sense and, although he could understand her suspicion given that he had kept the nature of his contact a secret, he was disappointed that she had immediately jumped to the conclusion that he had cheated on her.

"You just going to stare at the highway?" Skye finally probed, leaning back against her door as she watched Ward, who pursed his lips in response.

"I'm not entirely sure what you want me to say," Ward retorted, tone laced with venom, "you've already made up your mind. I'm a liar and a cheat."

Leaning her head against the cool window, she stared down at her lap, determined that she wasn't about to shed a tear. She was a big girl and her days of bawling during a disagreement should be long gone.

"You're a Specialist, Ward... You get information... whatever it takes. I get that," she said, hugging her arms around herself. The huff of laughter he expelled caught her off-guard, and she glared at him venomously.

"Not like that..." he scoffed, shaking his head as though the idea was absurd.

"Right," Skye replied in a bitter tone that conveyed she didn't believe a word. She flung back at him, "So that thing with May?"

Shaking his head in abject anger, Ward once again checked on their back seat passengers before he snapped, "I thought I'd proven myself to you, I figured we were past that. But maybe what I did is too much for you to forgive... I..."

He floundered, licking his lips nervously as he tried desperately not to look at his sullen girlfriend. Yet from his peripheral vision, he couldn't help but intercept the expression on her face, and immediately his furious reply stilled on his lips. Releasing a pained sigh, he directed, "Take my cellphone... hit redial."

"What?" Skye frowned, wiping at an errant tear that had managed to escape her tired eyes despite her resolve. The car drew to a halt, and Ward checked the rear view to ensure they were alone on the abandoned stretch of road as they pulled into a rest stop.

"Skye... please," he instructed, eyes now focused intently on her, and he found himself both strangely annoyed and saddened by the tears that welled in her eyes. His voice softening, he added, "Just do as I ask."

Huffing a petulant sigh, Skye grabbed the cell from Ward's hand and stabbed the button, raising it to her ear whilst never once removing her gaze from his face. Every ring set her nerves just a little bit more on edge and Skye's knee began to bounce frantically as she waited for the call to be picked up.

"This better be good," a no-nonsense female voice declared after a click, and Skye almost dropped the cell in her shock. "What do you want, asshole?"

Skye swallowed hard, staring askance at Grant, who was unable to prevent the faintest trace of a smirk twitching at his lips. He ought to have known that he could rely on Natasha never to let him down. Her disdain for him was balanced only by her friendly affection for him, and there was something distinctly familial about their relationship; almost like the older sibling he had often wished he had instead of Christian.

"He… hello?" Skye said uncertainly, swallowing hard in a demonstration of her nervousness.

"Not the asshole I was expecting," the woman observed, sounding mildly amused by the turn of events, and not at all like a mistress that had just been rumbled.

"Who is this?" Skye demanded, suddenly finding her voice as she bristled in irritation at the jibe.

"Honey, you called me," the woman replied, actually chuckling, which only succeeded in adding insult to injury in Skye's book. "I think I should really be the one asking that question, but, I'm going to take an educated guess and say I'm talking to Skye, and you're snooping through your boyfriend's phone on account of his questionable, octopus affiliated past. How did I do?"

The seconds ticked by, and Skye merely gaped as she processed just why the voice on the other end of the line sounded so familiar.

She found herself met with a bored sigh, after which the woman intoned, "Wow... Ward's not dating you for your conversational skills. Use your words, Skye."

"Be nice, Romanoff!" Ward cautioned, watching the expression on Skye's expression change from suspicion and hurt to awe, before settling swiftly on 'embarrassment'.

"Romanoff? Natasha Romanoff?" Skye repeated, eyes wide as she stared up at her boyfriend, "your 'old friend' is Black Widow?!"

"God, can we _not_ call me that?!" Romanoff sighed in boredom, and Ward smirked as he picked up the indignant undertone to her voice.

"I... I had no idea, I... I'm sorry to bother you?" Skye winced, her hand flying to her forehead as though she had been physically struck by her own stupidity.

"Look, I get it, okay?!" Natasha replied, this time her tone was lighter and slightly more reassuring, "Ward has a... questionable history. But the bastard's just trying to help you. That's all. Hard as it is for me to believe, he has friends now, and... have you been through his wallet recently? Cos you're in it. That tells me you're pretty special to him..."

Ward shook his head, as if not quite believing what he was hearing from the infamous spy. "You went through my wallet?"

"You have a photograph of me?" Skye asked softly, feeling the traces of a smile tug at her lips as she realised that was perhaps the first time anybody had ever done anything of that nature. She had never had boastful parents carrying an armful of photographs to force onto unsuspecting friends and colleagues, and no boyfriend had ever really cared deeply enough to carry her image with him.

"Okay, so if we're done with the suspicion, I'm going to leave you two kids to deal with that revelation and maybe go look into stopping S.H.I.E.L.D. from committing an Inhuman genocide," Natasha drawled lazily, and Skye winced again as she was struck by just how ridiculous she had been, especially given the situation at hand.

"Ward, try to stick to the plan," Romanoff commanded, before adding cheerily, "nice to speak to you, Skye. Let's not do this again too soon, though, 'kay?! Great."

There was a loud click and the line went dead, leaving Skye sitting in stunned silence whilst Ward only stared at her, waiting for her to regain her senses.

"You're besties with the freaking Black Widow and you never told me?" she accused, her voice rising an octave and succeeding in drawing a louder than usual snort from Fitz.

Frowning in distaste at the word, Ward shook his head as he defended himself, "Hardly 'besties'. Acquaintances, maybe. Contacts, yeah, I guess. I figured given her relationship with Fury, she'd be eager to know just what's going down in S.H.I.E.L.D. now courtesy of Coulson and his regime."

"But wait," Skye interjected, dropping her voice to a whisper as though she feared she may be overheard by someone of consequence, "aren't the Avengers like, on the run right now?"

"Technically, yes, aside from Stark," Grant replied, slipping his cell back into his jacket pocket.

"So... What exactly is the plan? I mean, can you tell me?" Skye fished, feeling her cheeks blush under his scrutiny, not to mention the sense of ridiculousness she was experiencing for having doubted him.

Contemplating the information he held for a moment, Ward leaned in close, his breath catching the shell of her ear as he whispered the plans he and Natasha had drawn up together.

Skye's eyes widened, and she stared up at him in disbelief, "Holy... shit. Are you serious? Like... Really?"

Ward smiled, a cautious sense of optimism contained in the gesture, "Really."

Skye digested the details of the plan for a moment, shaking her head from side to side as she pondered on how fantastical it all sounded. "I... I mean, that's... "

Suddenly realising that Ward had been doing the very opposite of betraying her - and had quite possibly put in place a plan that would save them all - not to mention their entire race, Skye was overcome with guilt so rapidly that it almost took her breath away. In the past year, Grant hadn't given her so much as a moment's cause to doubt him, and his devotion had been aptly displayed in every thought, word and deed that involved her.

"Grant?" she began, tentatively reaching out and curling her fingers around his much larger hand, "I'm sorry."

Ward glanced at her before returning his attention to throwing the car back into drive, his silence somewhat telling as to how he had received her apology.

"I don't want to fight with you, Skye," he began, shaking his head as he added, "especially not now."

"I get it," Skye interjected, looking utterly crestfallen as she breathed, "I hurt you."

"It's not that I don't understand," Ward explained, smoothing his thumb over the back of Skye's hand, which lingered on his knee. "It's just that I thought we'd moved past all of that, and that you knew that I'd rather die now than betray you again. I couldn't stand to be responsible for destroying what we have."

Turning her hand over to enclose his fingers around hers, Skye coerced him into meeting her gaze.

"I trust you with my life, Grant... " gesturing towards the back seat, she added, "and so do they."

Ward nodded, happy to have made progress in winning their trust back, but also crestfallen that Skye still doubted him.

"How long you think it'll be before you trust me with your heart?"

Her thumb circled the back of his hand as she clutched it tightly, and she added, "I do. You know I do. I just... I'm tired, and I'm angry, and... honestly? I'm scared. I was being stupid, I know that now. I'm sorry."

His expression softened and he noted the haunted, terrified look in her eyes, and for a moment he was transported back to another time and another place that seemed an eternity ago.

"I know I hurt you, Skye, and I know I don't deserve you... But you have to know... the only reason I'm here is you. You're what I'm fighting for."

Skye leaned across the gear stick in order to rest her head against Grant's shoulder, hardly caring that the seatbelt was digging uncomfortably into her hip.

"I promise to get my head out of my ass," Skye vowed, "how's that?"

Chuckling, Ward nodded and quickly dropped a kiss against the crown of Skye's head.

"Sounds like an excellent plan," Ward replied, knowing that he could for the moment get away with the joking quip, even extracting a small smile from his girlfriend.

"Speaking of excellent plans," she murmured, another glance first directed over her shoulder at FitzSimmons to ensure that they were still sleeping, oblivious to everything but the content of their dreams, "I think we should keep the deal with Romanoff between ourselves. If she can't pull this off then I don't want to give Fitz and Jemma false hope. They need to know what they're getting into here, and that… well, that there's a good chance we could lose."

Ward nodded, peering in the rear view at the sleeping scientists before he regarded his girlfriend again, "That's why I didn't tell you. I didn't want to get your hopes up. Natasha's... unpredictable at the best of times."

Rubbing her forehead wearily, Skye groaned, "Oh my God, she must think I'm insane. I'm one of those girlfriends that goes all creepy stalker when her guy so much as sneezes. Remind me next time I see her to try to at least be kind of cool?!"

Ward chuckled, blinking in surprise as suddenly he found Skye's lips pressed to his cheek, and she pressed into his side as far as her seatbelt would allow.

Biting back a smirk, he added playfully, "I love you even when you're a total flake... always have."

"Hey!" Skye protested, punching him lightly on the arm and smiling against his lips as he silenced her indignant huff with a kiss. From the back seat, an audible groan rose over their laughter and Fitz suddenly lunged forward in his seat, jolted from slumber.

"I'm gonna be sick!" he yelped in a rush.

"What? Geez, calm down Drama Queen, there wasn't even any tongue!" Skye protested, watching as the Scot slapped a hand over his mouth.

Simmons shot up in her seat, seemingly roused by the forward momentum of Fitz, who she had been propped up against.

"No, no, no," she stammered, hurriedly moving to wind down the window of the car, taking a moment to marvel at the fact that Ward had swiped a car old enough not to have electric windows, "he means he's actually going to be sick. He's never been a good traveller."

"We lived on a freakin' plane," Skye protested, arching a brow at Fitz, who had turned a significant shade of green.

"There's a rest stop in a half mile, I can pull over there," Ward offered, clearly concerned that Fitz was poised to empty the content of his stomach over the back of his head.

Jemma nodded and reached across to rub Fitz's back in comfort, succeeding only in drawing a pained moan from the man.

"Can you like, stick your head out of the window or something?" Skye inquired, her nose wrinkling in evident disgust.

His hands clamped over his mouth, Fitz's eyes were wide as he shook his head vigorously from side to side. "Mm... Mmm-uhh."

"What? What is that?" Skye's eyes darted furiously between the two scientists as Ward kept a watch through the mirror. "Jemma? What's he saying?"

As if he'd been speaking as clearly as they were, Simmons explained with a frown, "He'll try his best to hold on, but he'd be incredibly grateful if we could stop as soon as is humanly possible."

Fitz breathed a relieved sigh and nodded his head.

"You got all that out of his mumbling?" Skye peered askance at Jemma, who shrugged by way of explanation.

"We're lab partners," Jemma said haughtily, searching through her bag for a plastic grocery bag or some other object that could be used as a makeshift vomit receptacle.

"Uh-huh. Okay," Skye drawled, shooting Ward a similarly confused look as he took the next turn off the highway.

"There's some Dramamine in the black bag. We can't keep stopping if we don't want them to track us," Ward directed, raising both eyebrows pointedly at Fitz, who bobbed his head in ready agreement. Skye was certain he would have done his best to look chagrined if it wasn't for the decidedly green hue of his skin.

Skye leaned back in her seat, beginning to feel the anxiety building in her gut as Ward swerved the car into the vacant gas station lot. Fitz all but tumbled out onto the tarmac, managing to stumble mere feet before he began emptying the contents of his stomach onto the ground. Simmons approached him gingerly from behind, patting his back as he heaved and gagged, whilst Ward unbuckled his safety belt.

"I'll make a quick supply run inside. Have them back in the car in ten," Ward directed, pressing a kiss to Skye's forehead before he exited the car and jogged to the store, leaving Skye staring after him in concern.

As he walked, Grant fished a baseball cap out of the back pocket of his jeans and tugged it down over his head, allowing the peak to cast a shadow over his features. He slid sunglasses onto the bridge of his nose and turned the collar of his polo shirt upwards, attempting to obscure as much of his skin from view as was possible. A quick glance in the store window showed an inconspicuous figure reflected back at him, and Grant pushed open the door satisfied that he was unrecognisable.

Staring out of the car window at the vomiting scientist, Skye wrinkled her nose and watched in evident disgust as Fitz once again decorated the ground with this stomach contents, and she turned away as she felt her own stomach roll in sympathy.

"Gross," she muttered, plucking the bottle of water from the cup holder in the central island between the front seats and took a large glug to settle her own building nausea. She watched the store carefully, noting how Ward was already at the register, an armful of supplies in hand.

"Come on, guys," she coaxed aloud, watching with some relief as Fitz staggered back towards the car, his features almost ashen. Jemma clung onto his arm, doing her best to direct him.

"I'm fine, I'm fine. I'll be alright in a sec," he could be heard assuring his concerned and decidedly overbearing colleague. "Just need a little air, that's all."

Noting that Grant was striding towards the car, a brown paper bag on his hip, Skye opened the passenger door and whistled pointedly.

"Alright guys, let's go," she began, clapping her hands as if she were a little league coach trying to hustle her players.

Fitz groaned but obediently bundled back into the car alongside Simmons, who was patting the back of his hand sympathetically. Skye clipped her belt back into place in preparation, her unease waning just a touch as Grant neared the car.

"Here," Simmons said softly, pressing a couple of motion sickness pills into Fitz's clammy hand and shooting him a smile. He dry swallowed them and then sagged back against the seat, his eyes flickering closed as he puffed out a sigh. Tentatively, Jemma reached out and stroked a lock of hair from Fitz's forehead, then began to soothingly brush her thumb over his temple when he made no move to resist her.

Ward slid into the car and handed the grocery bag straight off to Skye, who noted his darkened expression immediately.

"What's wrong?" she pressed, her voice hitching as she demanded, "are we made?"

Sighing heavily as he gunned the engine, Ward shook his head.

"There's a storm coming. The roads up ahead are already flooded," he relayed, having been privy to the newscaster's announcements on the TV behind the register.

"So what do we do?" Skye asked, the faintest traces of panic sparking in her eyes.

"There's a trailer park about twenty miles from here, we're gonna have to detour a little, but we can't risk the hotel chains. Too many cameras, too many people."

Leaning her head in her hand, her arm resting on the door, Skye blew out an unsteady breath. She managed to flash a brief smile at Ward, who reached out and clasped her free hand in his, their fingers entwining together as their palms kissed.

"How's Fitz doing?" Ward asked, casting a glance backwards and noting the decidedly wan complexion of the Scot - who was perhaps even paler than usual.

"He's been better," Skye remarked wryly, watching as Simmons dutifully helped him take sips from a large bottle of water. Skye smirked pointedly at Grant, and he deflected her obvious enjoyment and scheming with an arch of his brow.

"Baby, don't. Don't meddle," he warned quietly, chuckling despite himself as Skye grinned and feigned an expression of innocence that almost instantly gave her away.

"I'm not!" she protested, laughing at his disbelieving expression, "I'm not, I swear! Besides, I don't think I'll have to. It looks like they're pretty cosy back there, despite the fact his breath probably smells like vomit."

"They'll get there in their own time, just like we did," Ward murmured quietly so as to prevent Simmons from overhearing him.

Skye only smiled in response and returned to watching the unwitting scientists with interest through the rear view mirror.

**x-x-x**

Agent Morse careered around the corner and straight into Coulson's office, clutching a set of printouts tightly in one hand as though her life depended on it. She didn't wait for the director to acknowledge her presence, instead stepped forward and slammed the bundle of papers onto his desk, a predatory gleam in her eyes.

"They've been spotted. Three hours ago at a gas station in Pennsylvania," she breathed, unable to thwart her own pleased smile, "we have a positive ID on FitzSimmons."

"Three hours ago?" Coulson repeated, his expression souring as he contemplated the likelihood that his missing agents would still be lingering in the same area. "Ward's not an idiot, Morse. They'll be long gone."

Grant Ward was no stranger to the tactics involved with staying off radar and, whilst it appeared that some of his team had made a momentary slip up, Coulson was confident that he would not run the risk of remaining in the same place for an extended period of time. The best they could do was hope to follow a pattern of stolen and recovered vehicles that appeared to lead to a particular location.

The smirk that twitched at Bobbi's lips instantly captured Coulson's attention, and he folded his arms across his chest as he regarded her with evident interest.

"And... What aren't you telling me?"

Morse's smirk evolved into a smile, and she turned the computer screen so Coulson could better view the image before she gestured to the concentric circles spread over the map before them.

"That there? That's a massive storm front, blew in tonight, not expected to leave until at least 5 am. That gives us..." she glanced at her watch, "almost 8 hours... they can't have gone far, Coulson, not in that weather."

Inhaling slowly, Coulson's lips formed a thin line as he debated their next move.

"Alright, have a team ready to go at my command. Tell May I want her to lead this one. There's no way she'll let Ward slip through our fingers again," he turned on his heel to leave, halting briefly as he added, "and Morse? I want FitzSimmons and Daisy alive."

"Coulson..." Bobbi began, planting her hands on her hips as she prepared to argue the case for using lethal force - something she had every intention of doing with or without Coulson's approval. "Daisy's dangerous, you know that. Ward's screwed with her head, and she's just as much a threat as he is now."

Coulson was already striding out of the room as he replied over his shoulder, "It's not up for negotiation, that's an order, Agent Morse!"

Releasing a sigh that aptly displayed her frustration, Bobbi pursed her lips as she stared at the image on the screen. Keeping her voice low so nobody else could overhear, she offered a somewhat delayed reply.

"We'll see about that."


	15. But in the End We'll Kill Them All

__

Wind whipped around the almost desolate trailer park, picking up scattered litter and rocks then tossing them into the air. It was the first signs of the brewing storm, or so the local newsreaders warned, and if the ominous rolling black clouds overhead were anything to go by, then they certainly were not wrong.

By the time the first drops of rain began to fall in large, messy splatters against the ground, Ward was closing the door of their trailer behind him. The trailer park was otherwise vacant aside from their party of four, but that suited the fugitives just fine since it greatly reduced their chances of being discovered.

Fitz and Simmons huddled together immediately on the couch, their faces wearing their nervousness plainly for both Grant and Skye to see.

"Are you sure we'll be safe in this little tin can thingy?" demanded Fitz, his accent thickening, as it tended to do whenever he was upset. "Surely once the wind really gets up, we could tip right over?"

"If the storm's going to be severe enough to close the roads, I hate to say that I'm a tad concerned that Fitz could be right," Jemma mumbled, her wide eyed gaze fixed on Ward's face as she sought some kind of reassurance from the man they had quickly come to regard as their leader, and perhaps slightly more unbelievably, their saviour.

Ward shook his head, managing a mildly confident smile as he assured them, "No, this thing's anchored down, we'll be alright. Soon as the storm passes, we're back on the road so don't bother getting too comfortable."

The duo nodded, shrinking back against the vinyl covered couch as Skye strolled purposefully over to Ward and grabbed his hand, beginning to tug him towards the bedroom compartment at the end of the trailer. He followed her with a quizzical frown in place, eyebrows raised as she bundled him inside the tiny room and slid the door across.

"Okay... Jacket off, boots off... and lose anything sharp and pointy," she directed, toeing off her own boots with evident determination. Struggling to think of an occasion when such a directive hadn't led to Skye divesting him of his clothing and them defiling a bed, desk, wall, or even floor space, Ward narrowed his eyes and pointed towards the lounge area.

"Uh... Skye... I don't think FitzSimmons want to be a part of this," he began, imagining the horror that would ensue if the pair were exposed to even the audio of their bedroom antics.

"No, idiot..." Skye giggled, "you're taking a nap. So, guns on the night-stand, give me your phone, and let's get this snuggle on."

She threw herself down onto the bed, wincing as the rusted springs dug into her, and she wriggled to get comfortable, fluffing up the pillows before sliding back against the headboard.

"Sorry, it's not the most comfortable hideout," Ward apologised, frowning as he eyed the minute 'bedroom' with obvious distaste. It completely baffled him as to how anyone could live in a trailer without going stark staring mad and he was poised to note as much when he registered Skye's chuckle.

"Grant, you lived in the damn woods for five years and my home was a van," she stated, drawing a genuinely amused smile to his lips as she continued, "I think we can handle this for less than twenty-four hours."

Looking appropriately chagrined at the realisation, Ward nodded and lowered himself somewhat tentatively back against the mattress. The odd spring could be felt digging into his spine but he really had had much worse, and so he smiled in almost contentment as he rolled over in order to pull Skye against his chest.

"You sleep, I'll keep a lookout," Skye promised, running her fingertips through his hair and then planting a kiss on his forehead. She could see that he was struggling to even keep his eyes open now that he was sprawled across a horizontal surface, and she flashed him what she hoped was an encouraging grin.

"If something happens or someone comes by or you guys don't feel safe, wake me," Ward warned, his tone as serious as the expression on his face as he regarded Skye through hooded eyes that were ringed with dark circles.

"Baby, I make earthquakes with my hands," she whispered, pausing to peck his nose with a kiss, "I got this."

"Okay," he agreed, realising how tired he truly was only as he felt his body relax against the mattress. Skye rewarded him with an approving nod, and she beamed as she cupped his cheek and then craned her neck as he leaned down to kiss her.

"Go to sleep," she coaxed, her fingertips brushing at his forehead as she eyed his face with obvious concern. "I'll wake you in a few hours."

He claimed one last kiss before laying his head down on the pillow beside hers, his arm draped over her hips as she lay on her back, nestled into the warmth he provided. Grant breathed in the scent of her skin, his breath drifting across her neck as they gravitated closer, as if desperate for the comfort of the other's embrace.

Turning her head for a moment so that their noses brushed, Skye whispered, "Hey, Grant?"

It was a few seconds before his eyes fluttered open, but when they did he regarded her expectantly. She swept her fingertips up and down his hand whilst his fingers curled around her hip possessively.

"I love you... 'kay?" she said in earnest, sighing as his eyes closed, and she watched a genuine yet barely there smile grace his lips before he fell victim to a dreamless slumber.

x-x-x

The quiet from the adjoining room had finally become deafening after a while, and instead Simmons and Fitz had opted to turn on the minuscule television set sitting on the counter in order to get an update on the weather situation. The rain continued to lash the sides of the trailer, whilst the wind howled as it tore through the trees and lifted lawn chairs clear across the yard outside.

The two scientists found themselves sitting closer and closer together as time elapsed, their nervousness growing as the inclement weather seemed only to turn more violent.

"I wonder how long this will last?" Simmons murmured, looping one arm through Fitz's as she raised her legs up onto the couch next to her and somewhat tentatively leaned into his side. Casting a surprised glance downwards at Jemma, Fitz felt a smile tugging at his lips as he snaked his arm around her shoulders.

"Not too long, I shouldn't imagine. Storms in this area usually blow over quite quickly," he replied, finding himself rubbing the top of her arm with the pad of his thumb. What was more surprising to him, however, was that Jemma seemed to be making no moves to resist his ministrations.

Nodding, Jemma cast a fleeting glance out of the nearby window, her top teeth gnawing a trench in her bottom lip as she peered out across the scene of chaos.

Quickly, she turned to regard Fitz, her chin tilted as she peered upwards into his face, her eyes searching his with such intensity that he gulped down his next breath.

"Do you think we can win this, Fitz?" Jemma demanded, her voice raw and afraid.

"You're worried about our safety," Fitz finished, nodding his head sagely, since Simmons' musings were hardly unexpected or misguided. Yet, much to Fitz's surprise, she shook her head vehemently before she leaned forwards and one hand fluttered in mid-air, then landed tenderly against the apple of his cheek.

"Not us. I know we'll be okay, no matter what. We always are, as long as we're together," she murmured, her words punctuated by a soft smile that Fitz thought suited her rather well.

"Ward and Skye?" he asked, swallowing hard as Jemma's hand remained in place, her palm warm against his stubbled jaw.

"I know Skye is strong, and Ward is literally the best at what he does, but… they're just two people, Fitz… potentially against hundreds," she mumbled, her eyes finally downcast as her fear was permitted to consume her, "it's unlikely that Coulson or S.H.I.E.L.D. would ever harm us. We're too much of an asset to them in the long run, and as far as they're concerned, our freewill is somewhat malleable. But Skye and Grant…"

Fitz released a long, drawn out sigh as he appeared to weigh the situation carefully. Finally, after a pause that stretched on, he replied, "If there's one thing I know about Grant Ward, it's that he's a survivor. That's... that's been his entire existence. Which is really sad, actually," he mused, his features sagging. Drawing Jemma closer, he added, "He's got something up his sleeve, and I don't just means knives... you'll see. And Skye, well she's bloody kick-arse now... And we have something else on our side that those government psychos don't."

"We do?" Jemma asked dubiously, clearly not convinced on the subject.

"Yeah," Fitz assuaged her with a gentle squeeze, "we've got each other. We've got something to fight for. And... actually, if there's two things I know about Ward, the second one's that he loves that wee girl. He won't let anything happen to her or us. We stick together, all four of us, and we'll be just fine."

Jemma sighed heavily against his chest, "You sound so certain. I wish I felt rather more confident Fitz, but... but it's Coulson, and he knows us. He knows how we think, he... he was like a father to Skye. This is personal for him too."

The rain began to drum heavier against the metal roof of the trailer, and Simmons shuddered as the gale licked the edges of the structure, causing an occasional rocking motion that was only adding to her unease.

"Aye, but Coulson doesn't know about those two," Fitz gestured with this thumb back towards the bedroom space as he spoke, "and more importantly, he doesn't know about May."

Simmons eyed him suspiciously, "When did you become such an optimist, Leo Fitz?"

There was a moment of silence between the two as Fitz contemplated the question before, licking his lips first, he offered Jemma a reply.

"Well, when you've got something to be optimistic about…" Fitz breathed, his heart thrumming in his chest as he leaned closer to Jemma, who inclined her face towards him with what seemed to be baited breath.

His eyes drifted down to her lips, plump and perfectly rose pink, and of its own volition his hand found its way to the side of her neck. Jemma made the quietest noise of strangled fear low in her throat that Fitz had ever heard, but nonetheless, the two continued to move towards each other, sealing the distance with a kiss.

When their lips met, it was with impossible gentleness, although a kind of electricity shot between the pair, who had waited so long for just the smallest fraction of progress.

"Is... Is this alright?" Fitz stammered, drawing back, eyes wide and his expression bordering on the precipice of elation and terror. Jemma smiled, nodding as she shuffled closer and then allowed her forehead to rest against his.

"It's perfect, actually."

"Oh. Right. Good. Okay," Fitz let out a breath, "shall we uh… shall we try it again, then? I mean, if you want to?"

His words had barely passed his lips before Jemma had claimed them in a second, less timid kiss. Fitz let his hands rest awkwardly on her waist, afraid to move an inch for fear of her reaction, but the sensation of her lips against his was everything he had ever dreamed and so much more. If the entirety of S.H.I.E.L.D. had chosen that moment to come bursting through the door, guns blazing, he would have died a happy man.

So of course there was an interruption. At first, the incessant and shrill buzz barely permeated their minds, but as the cell phone vibrated against the kitchen counter, the pair were forced apart prematurely.

"That's Skye's phone," Jemma stated, extracting herself from Fitz's embrace as she directed a cursory gaze towards the bedroom. Making a split second decision, Jemma hit the 'connect' button and lifted the phone to her ear, swallowing hard as she all but winced and awaited the mystery caller's greeting.

"Daisy?" Relieved to hear May's stoic tones, Simmons let out the breath she'd been holding and rubbed wearily at her forehead.

"May! I'm so glad it's you."

"Get me Daisy or Ward... now!" she demanded, and all at once the hushed and desperate tone of her voice made Jemma's stomach turn in dread.

"Uh... I think they're asleep, I..." Jemma babbled, taking a step towards the flimsy door that separated the trailer living space from the sole bedroom.

"Well wake them up," May hissed.

"What's happening?" Jemma pressed, her fingers tightening around the cell as she froze in the centre of the trailer, her eyes locking on Fitz's face.

"We don't have time for this. You need to get out of there now," May continued in a rush, although her tone was low and carefully measured, "there's a five man team of Specialists heading to your current location. You were picked up on the cameras at the gas station and tracked from there."

"How do you know all this?" Jemma breathed, her voice hitching as she felt panic begin to claw its way up from the pit of her stomach.

"I'm supposed to lead the team, Coulson's orders. Bobbi and Hunter are along for the ride but…" May's voice trailed off, growing colder as she added, "orders are subdue and capture, not kill. Morse has other ideas. I couldn't hold her off this time."

Jemma gasped, letting out a whimper as she reached with a trembling hand and yanked open the sliding door, revealing the previously entwined couple, springing to their feet at the disturbance.

"What is it?" Ward demanded, tugging on his boots and beginning to re-arm himself before Simmons had even had the chance to pass him the phone.

"It's May," she announced, the terror more than evident in her face, "they've found us."

Skye glanced at Ward only briefly as he muttered into the phone, and she tried to reign in the fear she felt threatening to overcome her. Placing both hands on Jemma's shoulder, she ordered, "Get Fitz, and get ready to leave."

Simmons bobbed her head, tears beginning to drip down her cheeks as she dashed from the room. She could be heard ordering the Scot about only seconds later, her voice shaking unsteadily as she did so.

Handing Skye the cell phone, Ward shrugged on his jacket and slid the last of his various guns into the holsters and hiding places that had become almost second nature to him.

"We've got five minutes to get out of here," Ward explained, his own expression darkening as he glanced out of the window and observed the storm, which appeared to be raging in full throttle.

"Make sure FitzSimmons are ready to go. I'll meet you out front," he directed, walking past Skye and pausing just long enough to press a kiss against her lips. It was a gesture full of the promise of their reunion, but nonetheless Skye found herself struggling to refrain from latching onto his arm and begging him not to separate himself from the group.

"What are you doing?" Skye demanded, jacket on, bag already slung over her shoulder.

His eyes dark and unreadable, Ward lifted his gaze and replied cryptically, "Insurance policy."

Skye watched Ward push through the doorway of the trailer with a sinking feeling in her chest. She barrelled into the tiny lounge area and wasted no time in ushering FitzSimmons behind her as she pushed the blind aside in order to peer out of the largest window. The sight of black SUVs squealing into the lot filled the back of her throat with bile, but Skye swallowed down her fear as rapidly as she was able.

"Grant, we gotta go!" she hollered, throwing open the door, which slammed against the side of the trailer as the wind lifted it from Skye's grip. She glanced over her shoulder at the stricken scientists only long enough to yell back at them, "Stay behind us. I promise we won't let anything happen to either of you."

Simmons and Fitz nodded in unison, their hands gripping fiercely to each other's as they sped down the steps in Skye's wake. Ward was there to meet her at the bottom and he gestured with a toss of his head to a far corner of the trailer park, which was fringed with thick foliage.

"We can't risk the highway in this weather," he said, bending so that his lips almost brushed Skye's ear as he gripped her elbow, "we make for the trees, stay together, draw them in there, and do our best to…"

"I know," Skye interjected, her expression solemn but resolved, "we're not playing games any more."

The four ran towards the steep incline of the woodland under the cover of the darkness provided by the storm, their boots slipping and sliding against the soaking dirt whilst the treacherous wind whipped tree branches across their path, and obscured their view of an escape. Skye led the small party up a rocky slope, and she paused to usher FitzSimmons past her as Ward followed mere steps behind, his eyes continually drawn to the parking lot and trailer behind them. Once satisfied that they were hidden beneath the trees and dense foliage, the group halted, and Skye joined the former Specialist as he knelt down behind a wall of boulders to spy on the four S.H.I.E.L.D. agents exiting the vehicles.

"I don't see May," Skye stated in confusion, watching as Hunter and Bobbi ran from one SUV and two unknown agents clad in black tac. gear raced from the other.

"May's not in charge of this operation, she never was," Ward replied, his eyes narrowed as his gaze settled on Bobbi, who was approaching the trailer, a gun drawn in each hand. Ward knew her well enough to realise that she'd never have followed May's orders and, whilst Coulson's decree might have been to capture the fugitives alive, that directive was likely to be ignored by Mockingbird.

"They've got no intention of bringing us in alive - any of us," Ward added gravely, his eyes ticking for a brief moment to the two scientists, who sat side by side behind an earth mound.

"What are we going to do?" Skye pressed, feeling entirely out of her depth and overcome with a sense of panic she thought she had long ago learned to master.

The group watched in silence, barely daring to breathe, as Morse and Hunter systematically worked through each trailer, the wind and rain hardly seeming to hamper them. They arrived at the correct trailer last, Hunter yanking on the handle of the door that had blown closed behind them whilst Morse burst into the room with her weapons hot. The other two agents waited at the bottom of the steps in readiness, but Bobbi finally sauntered out into the storm with a look of pure irritation spread across her features.

"What now, love?" Hunter demanded, kicking the rusted stair rail in frustration as he replaced his gun into the hip holster.

Morse scanned the horizon, hands planted on her hips and her head cocked.

"Higher ground is where I'd head," she replied above the roar of the wind, the fingers of one hand drifting to the gun at her waist as her gaze continued to rove the expanse of trees surrounding the trailer park.

The moment they were made, Ward knew. Not only did Bobbi's eyes narrow slightly as they landed on Skye's figure, but the fingers of her right hand were closed around her weapon before most could even blink. The bullet that whizzed towards Skye was aimed with deadly precision, and Grant barely had time to yank her backwards into the dirt so that it whistled above her head and instead struck a tree trunk.

"Stay down!" he bellowed towards FitzSimmons, who didn't need telling twice and had already flattened themselves against the ground. Kneeling down beside his girlfriend, Ward turned her head to face him, taking in her shocked and somewhat paled features. "Skye? Are you okay?"

"Yeah," she whispered, ducking down behind the rocks and taking a moment to catch her breath and harness her thoughts. The split tree trunk behind her indicated that all bets were now off as far as S.H.I.E.L.D. were concerned, and the bullet embedded in the timber had without doubt been meant for her head.

"I guess the gloves are off now, huh?" she said quietly, turning her face towards the sky as the rain abated, and the air around them seemed to hum with a surge of power that she felt radiate from the tips of her toes to the ends of her hair.

"Baby, we have no choice," Ward shook his head, his mind devoid of any other plan of action that did not involve equalling the agents' use of lethal force. If it was a choice between their lives and the dogged Specialists hunting them, Ward would not hesitate to make the call. It would always be Skye above all others.

"I know," Skye agreed unwillingly, her lips drawn into a frown as she pondered their fate. A fresh hale of gunfire interrupted her reverie, however, and the spray of bullets was followed only seconds later by a third assault.

"We're outnumbered, we're out-gunned..." Ward trailed off, deflecting the irritated scowl Fitz shot him with a shrug, "and they're not letting us get out of here alive."

Fitz gritted his teeth as the sound of fresh gunfire made his eardrums vibrate painfully, and he let out a yelp as a branch fell on top of his head, dislodged by the ricocheting missiles.

"Will somebody please do something?!" he yelled in exasperation, hands planted over his ears and his body strategically placed in front of Simmons.

Faltering for only a moment, Skye shot a glance at Ward, before she gave a single and resolute nod that made her agreement on the matter clear. Hand in hand, they rose to their feet behind the cover of the overhanging rocks, then stepped into full view of the S.H.I.E.L.D. team that would not rest until they were cold in the ground.

The moment that Skye threw up her hand, the hale of bullets stopped, frozen mid-air in their trajectory.

"Decided not to go out like a coward?" Morse taunted, jamming her gun back into the holster as she realised that it would likely prove useless against Skye's powers.

Ward extended his free hand, keeping the left tightly clasped in Skye's, and a small ball of flames began to rotate in the air a few centimetres above his palm. He cocked his head as he stared at Morse, his expression almost daring her to begin her advance again.

"What makes you think that the three stooges behind you and their pea-shooters are a match for us?" Ward dead-panned, forcing himself to chuckle in a measured fashion as though the whole idea was nothing but ridiculous to him. In reality, his heart pounded against his ribcage and the rush of blood in his ears was making it increasingly difficult to stay upright.

Bobbi pursed her lips, sweeping him with an analytical gaze as she guffawed, "You know it's that arrogance that's gonna get you killed, Ward."

Rebuking her comment with merely a raised eyebrow, Ward noted the terrified faces on the two nameless S.H.I.E.L.D. agents, who had clearly not been made aware of the fact that they were heading into battle with two Inhumans - two rather super powered Inhumans, at that.

"Get out of here," Ward dismissed them, holding each of their gazes momentarily to let them know he was allowing them the chance to flee.

Bobbi turned her head and glared at them in turn, "Hold your positions, you move when I tell you to."

Ward directed a goading smile at them, his hand moving ever so slightly as he appeared to bounce the flaming ball of fire in the air above his palm in an exploratory manner.

"Your call, guys..." he remarked, noting with satisfaction how their weapons hit the ground only seconds later, and they darted for the safety of the furthest SUV. Bobbi's expression set in anger, and her nostrils flared as a screech of brakes and cloud of dust heralded their untimely exit.

"I'm not afraid of you, Ward." She folded her arms across her chest, as if displaying just how unaffected by the Inhuman she actually was. But her bravado proved to be only a minor amusement for the former S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, and he let out a puff of laughter when she cocked her head and challenged his gaze.

"No? Maybe you should be." His hold on Skye's hand intensified as he kept a note of Hunter's movements; the couples stood in a tense stand-off, each poised to react the second the other so much as flinched.

"Nobody has to get hurt here, Morse," Skye reasoned, her eyes picking up movement from behind the Specialist, where Hunter had been languishing in uncharacteristic silence.

"But that's where you're wrong, Daisy... it's just not gonna be us," Bobbi retorted, and her words were punctuated with such venom that Skye felt a cold shudder run down her spine even before the other woman's mouth curved into a smirk.

"You can't win this, not with our powers in play," Skye bit back, although the creeping feeling of unrest and fear was beginning to seize hold of her once again. Bobbi's expression of self assuredness didn't so much as flicker, and her posture even seemed to relax somewhat, which served to do nothing else other than set every last one of Skye's nerves on edge.

"Really? You think your little tricks are so neat? Nothing could possibly top them, right? I mean, you're invincible," Bobbi goaded, her amusement only mounting as she spoke, "except, how good of a handle have you really got on yourself, Daisy? Sure, you can stop a bullet, uproot a little tree, but are you leaping tall buildings in a single bound yet?"

Ward arched a brow, venom oozing from every pore as he tossed back, "Cute, Morse, real cute."

Bobbi actually took a step backwards, although her grin was radiant now, her hands clasped behind her as she rocked on the balls of her feet, practically eager over something. Ward straightened, his instincts all but screaming at him, although over what he had no idea, nor could he begin to comprehend.

"You wanna know what's not?" Bobbi inquired, her back all but pressed up against the side of the trailer that Ward, Skye and the scientists had occupied only minutes beforehand. When she spoke, her eyes danced with malice and mirth, and there was a quiver in her voice that had nothing to do with guilt and everything to do with her rising glee.

Almost neutrally, with just the slightest shrug of one shoulder, she offered, "My new rocket launcher."

As if on cue, the back window of their SUV rolled down, and a fifth, hidden S.H.I.E.L.D. operative, clad in a black face mask and gloves, aimed the promised weapon at the pair.

"Seriously Morse? A rocket launcher? That's kind of over the top, even for you," Ward countered, his heart beginning to jack-hammer in his chest as he tracked the movement of Bobbi's hand, even before she raised her arm.

A click of her fingers was all it took for the minion to pull the trigger and, with horrified eyes, Skye watched as the missile hurtled towards them. Throwing up her hands in an attempt to use her powers to deflect the assault, she gasped as the rocket whistled towards them, barely even slowed by her most valiant efforts.

Bobbi's smile seemed frozen in place as she and Hunter dived for the shelter of the trailer. Crouching together, they watched for the resulting explosion with evident impatience.

"Get down!" Ward shouted behind him to FitzSimmons, and with only seconds left to react and weigh the consequences of his decision, the Specialist had launched a ball of fire to meet the spinning rocket. The trajectory change that Skye had barely managed to effect was amplified by the force of Ward's powers and, as the explosive device met with the burning globe, it was knocked off course, instead veering towards the trailer. The trailer which, Ward knew, was filled with highly explosive gas, thanks to the tanks he had unhooked moments before they had fled; his own 'insurance policy'.

"Skye!" he yelled, already tearing towards her as the missile penetrated the wall of the trailer. The resulting explosion rang out so violently that it expelled a wave of energy that blew the SUV over, and sent the neighbouring, vacant trailer rolling across the parking lot too. Skye grunted as the force of the blast coupled with Ward's solidly built body flung her to the ground, chasing the air from her lungs. She felt Grant arch over her as flaming debris and a smaller series of explosions perforated the air around them.

The air had left her lungs in a whoosh and she could hear only the roar of the flames above her own gasps for breath. Her vision swam somewhat and spots danced in front of her eyes, but she remained conscious, the burning pain in her lungs not severe enough to pull her under.

She became aware of voices raised in panic and tumbling into each other as they attempted to ascertain both her and Grant's safety, and she knew immediately that FitzSimmons were okay. From the way in which Grant remained spread over her, breathing ragged and uneven, Skye could tell that he too was conscious and fully aware of their surroundings.

"Grant…" she managed to croak out, still struggling somewhat to fill her lungs to capacity.

"Fine… I'm fine…" he replied, every muscle in his body tensed and hardened still despite the fact that, for the most part, the danger to them had passed.

Leaning up off her and stumbling as he dragged her to her feet, Ward swept his eyes over Skye hurriedly, wincing at the ash and charred debris that floated down around them.

"Are you okay? Are you hurt?" he cupped her cheek, lifting her gaze to his with shaking fingers. Skye shook her head, placing her hand over his only seconds before she suddenly threw herself into his arms.

"It's alright," he soothed, his hand fastening around the back of her head as he cradled her to his chest. He rubbed his forehead with the leather sleeve of his jacket as he felt ash burn his skin. Quietly, and somewhat for his own assurance, he repeated, "It's alright, baby."

"Skye! Ward!" Simmons yelped, skidding as she ran full pelt down the steep incline, Fitz in hot pursuit.

"Guys! Are you okay?" he demanded, coming to a stop beside the pair. He surveyed the scene of carnage before them with wide, horrified eyes, his lips barely parting for him to utter a strangled, "Bloody Hell..."

Through the raging wall of flames, Fitz could just barely make out sheets of twisted metal and piles of rubble, where only seconds before the SUV and the trailer had both stood, along with Agents Morse and Hunter. Now, as he raked his gaze over the scene of devastation, Fitz knew that all that remained was ash, debris and the acrid stench of burning.


	16. Cry The Tears

They were fed twice a day, if you could call it as much, since Chase wasn't certain that a cupful of watery soup and a bowl of rice could be classed as actual meals. Then, every afternoon they were herded out into the enormous, vacant yard like cattle and exercised, which involved milling about aimlessly with hands tied behind their backs. This routine existed solely for the Inhumans deemed as possessing non-lethal powers and those that had yet to undergo Terrigenisis. The others - the ones that could kill a man with just a flick of the wrist or disembowel an enemy with the power of their mind - were ferreted away elsewhere. Whilst nobody said as much, the rest of the prisoners knew that they were the ones undergoing the brunt of the experimentation. Chase was no idiot, and he often heard the screams late at night as he lay on the bottom bunk, screwing his eyes tight closed in a desperate plea for sleep to claim him. It rarely did.

He had been a prisoner for as many as three weeks he suspected, give or take a few days. It had become difficult to keep track of time, each hour bleeding into the next with nothing to punctuate them, other than the arrival of the next prisoner or the vicious beating of another. The cells in Chase's area of the compound were like something from an old fashioned prison movie - heavy iron bars set small distances apart with a single gate serving as an entrance and exit. Due to his powers of technopathy, Chase's cell door was sealed with a thick padlock, and the security camera had been removed. He had undergone Terrigenesis less than a year beforehand, and was still struggling to grasp the full extent of his abilities to manipulate technology. Before he and Molly had been found, he was fairly certain that he was close to being able to effect tech. without touching it, but it was a skill he had yet to master and claim as his own. If he had, he would have escaped his godforsaken prison already, and would be back in the arms of the girl he prized above all things.

His eyelids felt weighted and he struggled to focus on the other occupants of the cells, no doubt an effect of the tranquillisers coursing through his system. Chase had been kept in a semi-conscious state for what seemed like an impossible length of time, unable to call out any longer or plead for the lives of his girlfriend and unborn child. He had no idea how much time had elapsed since he had first caught sight of Molly being dragged by guards across the sprawling yard, her screams attracting the attention of every Inhuman nearby. Of course, Chase had tried to reach her, before he had been struck down by a tazer and a few swift kicks to his ribs. He had lost consciousness before he had managed to see where Molly was being taken, but he already had a fairly good idea anyway; after all, her immense physical strength could hardly be considered a passive power.

Time simply dragged on, with days and nights melting into each other until eventually, it was difficult to even speculate on the day. Not that it mattered anyway, since Chase had resigned himself to his fate a long time ago. But Molly; he couldn't let anything happen to her. She was the only reason he continued to fight.

The sound of screaming suddenly pricked his dulled senses, and he struggled to lift his head from the pillow beneath him as he heard the main door screech open and two armed guards dragged a man through the doorway, his skin blistering and burning red. Once he had been tossed haphazardly into the adjoining cell, the guards bid a hasty retreat, although their small talk rang in Chase's ears long after their departure.

"This cure thing is a bust... I'm telling you, man, it's not curing anyone, it's killing them!"

"You developing a conscience now, Marino?" the other, older sounding man demanded, his tone laced with amusement and annoyance.

"I just… it's not right, when you really think about it," the first guard continued to argue, "there are women and children here, man. I joined S.H.I.E.L.D. to protect people, not to massacre them. Now, we're no better than Hydra, no matter what Coulson says."

The second guard whistled at the claim, his throaty chuckle hardly sounding much amused.

"Don't let anyone else hear you say that," he warned, his voice beginning to sound more distant as he started back down the corridor, "the way I see it, we are protecting people. We're protecting the normal people from this sideshow. This is no different than experimenting on a bunch of rats in a lab. Sooner you get that through your thick, MTV addled head, the better."

"Whatever, dude. I'm just saying..." the younger man argued, his rebuttal punctuated by the sound of a heavy metal door opening.

"Well, that's your problem, kid. Too much talking. Less yapping and more doing as you're told. You get me?"

Chase groaned as he felt himself beginning to once again succumb to the effects of the drugs they had administered to him, irritated by the 'fuss' he had made upon seeing a terrified Molly being herded with the rest of the new arrivals a few days earlier. Unable to fight the medication any longer, Chase felt his eyelids close, and for the time being at least his body sank into the hard mattress and surrendered to sleep. His final thoughts were of a smiling girl, and the life they had planned out together. A life that now seemed to have been ripped away from them.

**x-x-x**

Agent May stood in front of the desk, hands clasped behind her back and a thousand yard stare in place, if not only to save her from the incomprehensible task of looking Coulson in the eyes. The man had more than lost his way, in May's opinion; he had ventured into territory that there was no coming back from - that had cost innocent people their lives and countless others their freedom. In short, he had fast become one of the monsters he so adamantly feared.

"Agents Morse and Hunter disobeyed my orders, sir," May intoned, voice neutral and body rigid, "they stole two S.H.I.E.L.D. vehicles and a rocket launcher from the armoury, and set out in direct violation of the instructions of a higher ranking agent to eliminate the targets."

Coulson listened in silence, leaning back in his desk chair with a curious myriad of emotions flickering across his features. When May chanced a glance in his direction, she found that she could no longer identify his guilt from his sorrow from his annoyance, and the very idea chilled her to the core.

Pausing for only a moment, she continued, "Satellite footage of the... altercation confirms it."

Coulson shifted in his seat, shaking his head as he snapped a hasty reply, "I don't care if they were defending themselves, May. I've lost two of my best agents."

"Debatable," May added, her neutral expression giving no hint of the distaste with which she contemplated her fallen colleagues.

"Daisy and FitzSimmons are in direct violation of the S.H.I.E.L.D. codes of conduct, they're facing disciplinary action already, and Ward... Ward is...a problem I should have dealt with a long time ago," Coulson sighed, his lips clamped into a tight line. Rolling her eyes, May placed her hands on his desk and leaned forward, as if about to impart immense wisdom that she knew her boss and one time friend would doubtlessly ignore.

"You know there was a time, not all that long ago, when Skye was like a daughter to you. You'd have done anything to protect her, you cared about her... you loved her."

Coulson sat up in his seat angrily, his exasperation at events more than evident in his manner. "And I still do care about her. But I care about what's best for her, and that might not be what she wants to hear."

"Seems to me that you only care about what you think is best for her," May replied, earning herself such a sharp look from Coulson that she wondered if she had finally crossed the line she had been dancing on for the last week.

"Is there something more you have to say here, Agent May?" Coulson demanded, quirking a brow at the other agent, who moved back into her previous position.

"You're going down a dark path here, Phil," she warned, her eyes blazing as she regarded the man, who appeared to be staring at the Captain America print that stood on the edge of his desk.

"It's not too late," May implored, her voice finally breaking and just a degree of the sadness and fear she felt beginning to ebb out, "I know your hand is being forced by the government, I know that this goes against everything that the real Phil Coulson stands for. Kidnapping kids? Murdering people in the woods? This isn't you. We have to take back control of S.H.I.E.L.D. before it's too late, before…"

"Before what, May?" Coulson asked softly, his eyes finally straying to her face. May paused, recognising the flicker of something within Phil's eyes that sparked hope inside of her.

"Before you lose your family forever. Before you hurt so many people that the ones that love you can't stand to look at you any more," she finished, letting out a sigh that seemed to rattle around the otherwise vacant office.

"You know what, May?" Coulson said, his eyes flashing back to the picture on his desk, "I think I've heard all I need to."

May frowned, the meaning of his words escaping her.

"I don't…" she began, trailing off as Coulson rose to his feet, regarding her with a look that would have sent a shudder down a less well trained agent's spine.

"One step ahead… Grant Ward always seems to be one step ahead of me these days," Coulson stated, circling around his desk until he was stationed at May's side, towering over her with a glower that she refused to cow to.

May narrowed her eyes, clamping one hand on her hip as she tilted her head and regarded him with enough venom to cause him to pause.

"Ward's _always_ been one step ahead of us, Phil. That's how he operates... Unless you're implying something else?" she practically dared him to voice his suspicion, and it appeared that with her challenge, the idea grew more ridiculous to him.

"No. I'm not... I'm sorry, I..." Coulson back-pedalled, "I know how you feel about Grant Ward, I..."

May pursed her lips, regarding the man one final time before she prepared to turn on her heel with as much poise and calm as could be expected from the infamous Cavalry.

"You know, Phil, I'm the only real friend you've got around here any more. Don't make me question my loyalty, because when _I'm_ not loyal to you, that's when you and S.H.I.E.L.D. have really got problems."

Coulson could never know how rapidly her heart beat against her chest in that moment, or how it was taking every ounce of her training and experience not to give away any 'tell' that might alert him that he'd uncovered his traitor. The S.H.I.E.L.D. director was silent for a moment, as if deliberating whether or not to share the information poised on his tongue.

"I sent men after Ward... CIA operatives. Best of the best."

"Oh, Phil..." May hissed in despair and shook her head slowly, assuming her performance now bordered on the Academy Award winning. Not dropping the façade for a second, she pressed, "And since he's still alive, I'm guessing that's why I've been fielding so many angry calls from Director Marsh."

"He took them out, May. All of them. They were found stuffed into a damn closet a couple of hours after Ward and Daisy left the base," Coulson revealed, shaking his head and rubbing his jaw thoughtfully with one hand. "The autopsy results suggest that Daisy… one of the guys, his heart literally exploded. The coroner had never seen anything like it before."

May remained silent and unmoving, waiting for Coulson to proceed with his point, whatever that might be. She knew very well what Daisy had done, and how she had been instrumental in the deaths of the agents, but she simply couldn't find it within herself to blame the girl.

"Grant Ward is dangerous, and I just… she needs to see that. _If she could just see that_ ," Coulson repeated, shaking his head before perching on the edge of his desk and beginning to loosen his tie with robotic fingers. "It wasn't meant to be this way. I thought she'd be on my side."

"Why is this so important to you?" May inquired, unable to meet Coulson's gaze for fear that the turning in her stomach would betray her should she catch his eye, "why are you so hell bent on controlling the Inhumans?"

Appearing to mull it over for only a moment, Coulson replied steadily and with total conviction, "Because they're dangerous, May. The Avengers initiative exists solely to combat threats of an extra-terrestrial nature. How many cities, how many lives have been destroyed because of powered people?! It has to end. Somebody has to stop it... before it's too late."

Not seeing the logic in his argument, May countered, "Yet half the damn Avengers team are from outside this zip code, Phil. Anybody can be dangerous; human, Inhuman, we're all the same."

Coulson stared down at the robotic hand, extended his fingers in an opening and closing gesture.

"But the stakes are so much higher when you're up against that kind of power. I'm just levelling the playing field, May. Restoring a natural balance. I don't want to hurt these people, I want to help them, to fix them."

"It's only you who says they're broken," May replied, sitting down next to him and hoping his suddenly reflective state might prove useful to prompt a little soul searching. The man she'd grown to love as a best friend all those years ago had to still be in there somewhere, she was almost certain.

"I am trying to save the world here, May," Coulson countered, although his tone was a little less self-assured, "you can't make omelettes without breaking a few eggs first, right?"

"We're talking about people's lives here," said May, reaching out to grasp the man's elbow in a vice like grip that communicated her desperation, "you can throw all the platitudes you want at this, but it won't make it right. Men, women… children… Daisy, who you claimed once you loved as though she was your own. How are you planning on repairing things with her? She's scared for her people and for her own life, and now she's on the run from the one home she's ever known. We could end this, together."

Coulson appeared almost on the verge of a breakthrough, and it was a few agonising moments before he replied. His eyes were cast down towards the ground, as if afraid to meet May's expectant gaze.

"Once she's home again, we'll make it right. Ward's gotten to her. He's the reason she's acting out like this. Once she's back here, with her family, she'll see sense. And... if not, then I have to do what's best for her."

May swallowed down the unease that was beginning to swirl in her gut. "And what's that?"

Coulson blanched, before finally climbing to his feet and shooting his friend a glare that practically defied her to argue with him.

Resplendent in his belief, he replied, "TAHITI is a magical place, May. It works, I'm living proof of that. And we're all the family she'll ever need."

**x-x-x**

They hadn't made it far on foot through the wind and rain before deciding that attempting to escape the area before the storm had abated was a fruitless pursuit. The four had walked for what seemed like miles, until they were so bedraggled and wet that their clothing was sticking to them like a second skin.

The first house they had come across that appeared empty was quickly decided on as their rest stop for the evening, and Ward had secured them entry through a back window before ushering them all down into the basement. As soon as the storm subsided, they would leave town before S.H.I.E.L.D. arrived to pick through the wreckage.

Simmons and Skye huddled in the corner, their arms encircling each other as they trembled, a consequence of the cold and damp surrounding them. Their teeth chattered but they remained otherwise silent, both having drifted into a quietly contemplative mode after what had transpired at the trailer park.

Fitz, on the other hand, had seemed to spring into life and action, eager to aid Ward in whatever pursuit he could. The former Specialist supposed that he needed to feel useful in order to process everything they had seen in such a short space of time, and so he offered Fitz small tasks to complete to keep his focus.

"We need to do something about these wet clothes," Fitz whispered to Ward, frowning as he held out his arms to demonstrate how the water ran off the ends of his fingertips.

"All our bags were in the trailer, except for Skye's laptop," Ward replied in hushed tones, shaking his head as he attempted to formulate a solution to the problem.

Fitz nodded, shrugging as he added, "I could go and take a peek upstairs, see if I can find anything the girls could wear, just for tonight?"

Ward seemed distracted, yet he forced a weak smile of agreement as the scientist appeared pleased with his plan, and proactive approach to the situation. Noting the Ward's silence, Fitz placed his hand gingerly onto the other man's shoulder.

"You had no choice back there. It was... Well, it was them or us and... I for one am bloody glad you made the call you did."

Absorbing his words, Ward inhaled deeply, as if his own thoughts were preventing him from voicing the concerns Fitz so clearly saw etched on his face.

"Skye... I... I don't want her to blame herself for what happened back there. I've got more than enough blood on my hands, Fitz, but Skye? She's not like me. She never will be."

Fitz frowned momentarily, shaking his head as he peered across the veritable darkness at Grant, whose guilt was written clearly upon his features.

"I've never…" Fitz hesitated, "I've never done what you and Skye have had to do. I can't tell you it's going to be okay or absolve you of the guilt or… well, I suppose I can't understand, not really. But I can listen, Grant. I can always listen."

Ward paused, his hands actually trembling in the darkness as he reached out and seized a stool that had been positioned next to a workbench. Slowly, he sat down, raking his hands through his sodden hair.

"It's funny. In that second beforehand, it always seems like the best call… the right call… sometimes, the only one," Ward explained, his voice adopting an almost faraway quality, "but afterwards, once you've realised that this time you were the lucky son of a bitch that made it home, you start to think about the people that didn't… because of you."

But of course there was a deeper meaning to Ward's confession, and an absolution he had sought for the longest time.

"What I did... on the BUS," Ward began, his eyes suddenly locking on Fitz's, "I was trying to save you. Garret, he... He would have killed you, and I had to make a choice. I'm sorry I wasn't strong enough to make the right one."

Of course, he referred to John Garret, and his regret that he hadn't chosen that moment to send his former mentor and abuser to the grave he so desperately deserved.

"I was weak, I... I'm sorry."

Fitz gaped, clearly taken aback by the Specialist's tirade. "Well, I... I mean. It wasn't ideal being dumped into the middle of the ocean, but... it was better than getting shot, right? Garret would have killed me and Jemma, no questions asked."

Turning in his seat, the Scot affixed Ward with a patient and wholly understanding smile, "Look, Grant, anybody can see how hard you've worked to become the man you are now. What happened today? That doesn't change that. You saved us, you and Skye... You did what you had to do."

"I killed two people," Ward choked out, wiping the back of his hand across his rain soaked face and looking away, "more red in my ledger."

"What?" Fitz queried, momentarily confused by the alien phrase.

"It's what an old friend would say," Ward explained, sucking in a deep breath before he finished, "I've taken enough lives already, Fitz. I'm tired."

Fitz remained silent, contemplating Ward's words, and then momentarily shooting a glance into the corner, where Jemma and Skye remained tangled in each other's arms, their eyes half closed.

"How many more people are going to die before this is over, Fitz?" Ward queried, his voice weary and his posture suddenly slumped, "how many of those will die at my hands? This was never who I wanted to be."

"No. You became who Garret wanted and needed you to be. But that was then, Ward. It's different now. You have people who care about you, someone who loves you..." Fitz nodded over towards Skye, "she knows the real you, and I think I'm starting to as well. He's an alright bloke."

Taking out the handgun that was concealed in his back pocket, Ward set it down on the table and then sat back more comfortably in his seat.

"You're a better man than I am, Fitz. I couldn't forgive the things you have."

Rising from his seat, about to venture upstairs to seek out less damp clothing, Fitz jammed his hands in his pockets and shrugged.

"Well, the way I see it, it's all about perspective. Nobody should have been treated the way you were, Grant. I mean, you were just a kid, I... I can't ever understand what you went through. So I can see how you became, well, the way you did. But Skye changed you... and the man you are now? He's different. He's loyal, and he's strong, and he's a bloody good guy to have on your side. We can't do anything to alter the past, mate. But we can make the future what we want it to be... and, for what it's worth, I think yours is going to be pretty great."

Ward watched Fitz steal as quietly up the staircase as possible before his attention was diverted to the corner by the softest of sighs. He forced his lips into a smile as he found brown eyes regarding him, although the shake of her head she responded with told him that there was no need for bravado. Gently, Skye patted the floor space on her left side, inviting Grant to join her. Simmons had succumbed to sleep and was leaning against the woman's other shoulder, her lips parted as she breathed softly.

"What now?" Skye murmured, her hand snaking onto Ward's knee as he settled onto the ground next to her, his legs crossed underneath him. "Where do we even go from here, Grant?"

"We'll worry about that later, baby," Ward promised, craning his neck in order to brush a kiss against Skye's cheek, which was still cold and damp from the rain. With a frown he commented, "You're shaking."

"I'm cold, that's all," Skye assured him, leaning her head on his shoulder and reaching up to place her free hand against his cheek. He shrugged out of his jacket, instantly draping it over her front and sliding his hand underneath to slip around her waist.

"Thank you," she whispered, her forehead pressed to his as she gratefully drank in not just his physical presence, but the reassurance she found in his scent and the feel of his skin against hers. They remained in silence, edging as close as possible to each other, before Skye broke the somewhat uneasy stillness.

"Grant?"

He arched an eyebrow, inclining his head so that he could hold her gaze. Peering deep into his eyes, Skye could easily guess the topic of the conversation that had transpired between her boyfriend and the scientist.

"You have to stop waiting for me to change my mind about us. About you," she scolded, her fingertips caressing his jaw as she leaned up and pressed the gentlest of kisses against his bottom lip.

"I guess it's hard to stop thinking that you deserve better," Ward replied, closing his eyes as he rested his head against Skye's forehead. Her breath ghosted across the tip of his nose, rousing a smile from his lips despite the situation. She was present, she was safe, and she was his, whether he felt deserving of being entrusted with her heart or not.

"I wish today hadn't turned out the way it did," Skye said quietly, her eyelids flickering closed momentarily as she recounted a time when she, Morse and Hunter had been almost friends. Although they had never been close, she had viewed them for a time as colleagues and team mates, and the sting of their betrayal was only eclipsed now by her guilt at being responsible for their deaths. However, no matter how she re-examined the situation and all that had occurred over the last few days, she couldn't manage to think of a single thing she or Grant could have done differently when faced with two people who had lost themselves in their warped desire for justice.

"Me too," Ward added, coaxing her head back against his shoulder and positioning her carefully so that she was tucked into his side, "but someone pretty smart told me that we have to stop looking back at the things we can't change. I guess it's solid advice."

"It is," Skye agreed, her tone still somewhat morose, "and there's a hell of a lot of innocent people in Virginia counting on us. We owe it to them not to give up."

"We'll see this through, baby. I promise," Ward vowed, feeling his heart rate begin to climb steadily as she sought out his lips, her breath hot against his mouth. He closed the fraction of a centimetre between them and claimed her lips with an urgency that was almost alarming.

"We'll get Chase and Molly back," he assured her, caressing her cheek and consenting to smile as she nuzzled her nose against his, stealing a second and then a third kiss. Laying her head against his shoulder, Skye glanced up at him, careful not to jar Simmons further as the scientist let out a grumble of protest in her sleep.

"Don't take any chances out there, Grant. Promise me, okay?"

"I promise," he silenced her fears almost immediately, "we'll leave here as soon as the storm breaks. There's an airfield four miles away. I figure we can borrow a private jet, be in Virginia by tomorrow afternoon. I've got a safe house in Washington, we'll lay low there for a day or so whilst Natasha gets the final players in place."

Skye murmured her assent, poised to respond further when Fitz stumbled down the staircase once again with an armful of clothing clutched to his chest.

"This is the best I could find," he groaned, balancing the items precariously on the workbench and beginning to rifle through them. He held out a sweater and a pair of jeans to Ward, his smile encouraging as he added, "Lucky for you it looks like Daddy dearest is just as freakishly tall and muscular."

He grimaced as he held up a fuzzy hot pink sweater, his gaze apologetic as it landed on Skye.

"I'm sorry about this, but I suppose beggars can't be choosers and all that, eh?" he stated, chuckling as he added, "luckily for you, me and Simmons, it appears that Mr. Freakishly Tall has a couple of teenagers kicking about."

Accepting the proffered sweater and jeans with a wrinkled nose, Skye found herself mildly comforted as Fitz added, "It's just until our things dry out. Then we'll wash these and leave them back upstairs for the family to... to..."

He halted as he intercepted Skye's clearly thoughtful expression. Misreading the signals, he offered her the purple sweater in his left hand instead as he declared, "There's this one, if you prefer, I..."

Her eyes suddenly alive with purpose, Skye carefully moved Jemma off her shoulder and leaned her against the nearby wall, before she was on her feet and glancing between the two men with a rather baffling surge of renewed energy.

"That's it," she exclaimed, smiling to herself even as Fitz and Ward looked on, both looking similarly clueless. Appearing to weigh the sudden inspiration that had struck her, Skye chewed on her bottom lip before she peered up at her boyfriend.

"I'm gonna need their Wifi password."


	17. Didn't Know That I Could Feel This Great

The cloud cover was minimal that night, leaving an inky blue sky full of glittering stars for the weary pilot to sweep his gaze over. After having disabled all radio connectivity and the security tracking beacon that would have otherwise given away the location of their 'borrowed' private jet, Grant Ward sat in silence at the controls, his eyes settled on the horizon even as his thoughts remained elsewhere.

Flying was second nature to the former Specialist, and his fingertips glided over the controls without any real effort or concentration required.

FitzSimmons had long ago settled into adjoining seats, legs curled up underneath them as they feasted on the bags of chips and other in-flight snacks that the businessman who owned the aircraft had stocked the vast storage hatches and refrigerator with.

Skye sighed in evident boredom, forcing a smile as she rose from her seat and left the duo to chatter quietly as they watched the Disney movie, their conversation dictated by the feasibility of a snowman living outside of a sub-zero climate.

She wandered into the cockpit with a sense of nostalgia almost weighing her down. Memories of the Bus and the way the team had co-existed within it flashed through her mind, managing to simultaneously raise a smile to her lips and also cause her heart to sink. Firmly, Skye pushed the thoughts away, deciding that just for one night, she owed it to herself to try to forget the heartache that all but dominated their waking hours.

She stole into the cockpit with ease, bare feet padding softly against the carpet. She approached Ward from behind and managed to wrap her arms around his neck in an affectionate gesture before he realised she was there; a true testament to just how far she had come in her training since first joining S.H.I.E.L.D.

"You know, the very first time I set foot on a plane was when I joined you guys on the Bus," Skye revealed, moving around to the front of the pilot's seat and carefully positioning herself on Ward's knee. He smiled, brushing a kiss against her cheek, before he drew back to regard her with faint surprise colouring his expression.

"Really?" he inquired, hands grasping her hips in order to hold her in place, "weren't you scared?"

She shrugged, as if trying to recall the moment from what now seemed so very long ago.

"I don't know. I guess I was just excited. Like, I was gonna be a part of something," she lowered her gaze for a moment, trying not to think back on the paternal love she had felt for their former boss, "and I am... part of something, I mean. It's totally not what I thought it would be, but I know who I am now and I know where I want to be. For the first time, I feel like I belong somewhere."

Ward nodded, reaching out to brush a tendril of hair behind her ear as she busied herself with tracing her fingertips over the buttons on his Henley.

"Leading our people?" he guessed, head cocked as he regarded her.

Skye laughed, shaking her head as she slid her hand up his chest and leaned in closer. "No, _Hellfire_. I mean... with you."

She cocked her head as she added as an afterthought, "I mean, sure, leading the Inhumans. But... mainly? This. Being with you."

Punctuating her point with a kiss, she scooted closer to him across his lap, her arm looped around his neck. She rested her forehead against his and contented herself with caressing his jaw with the most tender of touches. Ward was still trying to formulate a reply to her declaration, far too shocked at the idea that someone could possibly feel that way about him to voice his own feelings on the subject.

As his response was poised to leave his lips, Skye interjected, "You're like... stupidly handsome, you know that, right?!"

Leaning his head back, Ward narrowed his eyes as he pretended to ponder her words.

"I know," he finally replied, winking at her even as she rolled her eyes.

"Of course you do," she drawled, chuckling. Grant's smirk only deepened and he brushed the back of his hand along Skye's cheek, an indiscernible look spread across his features.

"I don't know what I'd do without you," Ward murmured, all of a sudden stoic and softer around the edges, all traces of his previous mirth gone.

"Sure you do," Skye replied, giggling again as she added, "you'd be 'Grant Ward', Specialist, bad ass and ladies man."

Ward appeared almost offended by the latter accusation, his eyebrows shooting up as he regarded his girlfriend.

"Is that really what you think?" he inquired, unable to help himself from brushing his thumb across the apple of Skye's cheek, "that before you I was…"

Skye shook her head as she soothed him, her earlier indiscretion regarding the Black Widow still unpleasantly fresh in her mind. She almost grimaced but managed to contain any outward display of her embarrassment.

"Hey, don't worry, I'm not one of those crazy jealous chicks that's going to demand a list or something."

His hands suddenly settled on her face, his fingertips cradling her jaw as he brushed his thumb over the curve of her cheekbone, and his eyes drank in every minute detail of her face. Skye's hands landed tentatively over his, and she found herself captured completely by his gaze.

On the tail end of a slow breath, he finally replied, "I've never been a ladies man. Between Garret, S.H.I.E.L.D., and making a whole lot of really bad choices, I guess it just didn't figure high on my list. I needed everything locked down, in place, no temptations, and no distractions. Yeah, I slept with women, but it was a physical thing. It was just sex, and most of them I never saw again."

Skye cleared her throat, suddenly interrupting, "And these... _women_... not that I care, cos I'm a super understanding and totally awesome girlfriend, but... how many exactly are we talking, here? I mean, ballpark figure? More than ten? More than twenty? _Thirty_?"

Ward smiled, a faintly embarrassed blush tainting his tanned cheeks as he replied, "Less than ten."

Skye's expression suddenly flitted somewhere between disbelief and abject shock. "Seriously?"

"Seriously," he echoed, tracing her lower lip with the pad of his thumb.

"Holy shit," Skye breathed, frowning as she peered at him quizzically, "you've seen you, right?!"

Ward shook his head as his cheeks flushed with a crimson hue that only made him infinitely more appealing to Skye in that moment.

"And what about you, huh?" he inquired, tipping his head as he regarded his girlfriend, who almost squirmed in his lap in discomfort.

"What… about… me…?" she finally replied in a stilted tone, avoiding his gaze deliberately.

"You don't have to tell me," he comforted her, gripping both cheeks in his hands as he leaned forwards to kiss her. When they broke apart, he finished, "All that matters to me is the here and now."

Skye seemed slightly perturbed by the question, but she couldn't deny that the subject matter was all of her own doing.

"Okay, so if I answer that question it makes me look bad compared to your ridiculous headcount... so to speak," she pursed her lips momentarily, consenting to smile as Ward smirked back at her in amusement at the unwitting double entendre. "But if I don't answer, you're gonna think I'm some giant hoe-bag. Like, I swear, it's not that bad, it's not even that higher than yours, I..."

She blinked as his lips found hers so quickly that she was silenced. She could only hum her pleasure as his hand landed on the back of her head and held her fast against him.

"Skye?" he murmured, his lips mapping a path down her neck.

"I..." his fingertips slid underneath her shirt and grazed the base of her back, "don't..." and he angled her head to claim another hungrier kiss, "care."

Kissing him back with equal eagerness, Skye straddled his knee and wound her arms tight around his neck. Ward sat up straighter and crushed her to his chest, desperate to ensure that not even the most minimal distance remained between their bodies.

"You don't?" she panted, closing her eyes and tilting her head back as his tongue swirled against the sensitive spot on her neck, before he sucked lightly on her warm skin. He made a noise to affirm his position on the subject, too caught up with kissing her senseless to bother voicing his reply. But then he suddenly drew back, his cheek against hers, whilst they both struggled to catch their breath.

"Alright, so maybe I care about the Lincoln thing," he confessed, biting back the smirk that threatened to give him away as Skye clearly had trouble ascertaining from his expression if he were kidding or not. "I mean, I fucking hate the guy."

Frowning, Skye bobbed her head in agreement, "Kind of see where you're coming from now."

Ward nodded, one eyebrow arched even as he moved forward to instigate yet another fevered kiss.

"Sparky is an asshole," he murmured, sweeping his girlfriend's face with his gaze, and biting his bottom lip as he intercepted her decidedly lascivious smirk.

"He's definitely not a patch on my new boyfriend," Skye countered, amusement dancing behind her eyes as she stroked a lock of Ward's hair away from his brow.

"Glad to hear it," he answered, obviously trying his best not to crack and dissolve into laughter at any given moment.

She whimpered as he gathered her into his arms, his lips immediately on hers, and she groaned into their kisses. His tongue writhed against hers, fingers digging almost painfully into her hips as she ground down against him.

"What are FitzSimmons doing?" Ward whispered, his breath drifting across her neck and making her shiver as he kissed up her collarbone. He stared up at her with a predatory glint in his eyes.

Skye licked her lips, tangling her fingers in his hair as Grant kissed and licked up her neck. His questing hand slid under the front of her shirt and advanced upwards towards her breasts.

"Watching Frozen..." she panted, her fingers grasping tighter at his hair as he found a particularly sensitive spot on her neck, " _mmm, right there_ … They're... busy. Is autopilot on?"

He groaned an affirmative, breathing her in whilst he explored every inch of skin available to him, and made hasty plans to uncover the rest.

"Frozen?" Ward checked, eyes narrowing as his desire addled brain finally processed her answer.

"Yeah, the talking snowman thing," Skye explained, only pausing in her task of kissing along the column of his throat long enough to reply. Ward brushed her hair behind her ear, growling low in his throat as Skye moved lower down his body to kiss his collarbone, and her core pressed harder against his swelling crotch.

"Whatever makes them happy… I guess…" he murmured, obligingly undoing the buttons of his shirt as Skye pressed her lips repeatedly against his body.

"If it keeps them quiet… and out of here…" reasoned Skye, breaking off from her advances momentarily in order to peer up at Ward with a mischievous smirk.

Nodding his head in ready agreement, he cupped her cheek and drew her in closer, and this time she groaned as their kisses escalated into a playful war of teeth and tongue and she ground against him in a desperate need to alleviate the building throb of her core.

Nipping his bottom lip between her teeth, she then grinned as she hooked her thumb toward the door of the cockpit.

"So, I'm gonna lock that, and you're gonna flip whatever controls you need to, and then..." she arched an eyebrow, tracing the path of his gaze to her chest as she began to unbutton her own shirt. When it fell open to reveal her bra, a murmur of approval escaped Ward's lips, and his head fell back against the seat. He observed her ravenously, allowing his fingertips to trace the curve of one full globe. Her arms locked around his neck and she pressed in closer, kissing his lips before she nuzzled her way up his jawline.

"I need to be close to you... I need this," she explained almost shyly. Drawing back to look at her, Grant brushed his thumb over her lips, holding her gaze with an affectionate and wholly understanding smile.

"Lock the door, baby," he agreed, gathering her into his arms and being content for that second to just hold her, embracing her as tightly as he dared whilst she clung on to him just as fiercely. Even in uncertain times, they could always be sure of each other.

**x-x-x**

"Did you hear something?" Fitz demanded, suddenly hitting the pause button on the remote and freezing the movie midway through Simmons' favourite scene, much to her annoyance.

"Oi, Fitz!" she protested, making an unsuccessful grab for the remote as Fitz held it aloft above her head and then placed his free finger to his lips in a shushing gesture.

Simmons rolled her eyes, but obligingly lowered her voice, "Don't be silly, we're thousands of feet in the air. Nothing can happen to us up here. Well, aside from the obvious possibility of a mechanical failure, whereby we end up plummeting back towards the earth at speed, but the likelihood of that is slim. I mean, really, air travel is statistically safer than any other mode of…."

"I'll put the movie back on," Fitz said hurriedly, stabbing the play button and settling back against the couch, completely oblivious to Jemma's satisfied smirk.

Carefully, she arranged herself against Fitz's side, and even let out a purr of contentment as he looped his arm around her shoulder, seemingly without a second thought. She peered up into his face, her smile wondrous and awed when he looked down to regard her, and she saw his adoration written plainly in his features.

They continued to watch the movie in silence, and the sugary, joyful, escape into Disney proved to be a much needed respite after the day that was drawing to a close around them.

"This is nice," Jemma sighed, suddenly straightening up a little as she heard a strange sound emanate from the hallway and the plane began to shake slightly, causing her and Fitz to turn their heads in the direction of the cockpit.

"Turbulence?" Fitz suggested, swallowing hard as he distinctly heard two stomach churning groans drift down the hall.

"Ward's an excellent pilot, I'm sure, and Skye... " Jemma began, realisation striking her perhaps a second earlier than it caught up with Fitz, "is... in there too."

The plane juddered threateningly again, and the pair glanced around the expensively kitted out private jet as it jerked and rolled. Turning back around, Fitz sank into his seat, pleased that Jemma returned her head to his shoulder and even wrapped her arm around his waist.

"Perhaps we should turn up the volume a little more," she ventured.

"Yeah. Good idea," he agreed, stabbing at the volume button on the remote with increased urgency. If there was one thing he did not want to hear, it was the orgasmic moans and groans of his friends.

Focusing on the image of the blonde haired princess bursting into song on an icy mountain top and directing the audience to 'let it go', Simmons quipped from behind a sly smile, "Well, they most certainly are."

"Jemma!" Fitz squealed, practically scandalised and abjectly shocked that his generally demure colleague could have made such a joke.

Giggling, Jemma arched an eyebrow as she challenged, "What? I can be naughty sometimes."

Freezing for a moment, his expression uncertain, Fitz stared at the woman in his arms for a time. Finally, his lips twitched at the corners and he consented to chuckle.

"Aye, I'm sure you can be," he replied, brushing a soft kiss against the crown of her head, "but we're in no rush to do, well, you know… I mean… ahem… that."

His face paled considerably as he stammered through his speech, which he had intended to be distinctly more sweet and eloquent than it had ended up being. However, always on a similar wave length, Jemma quickly blushed and nodded her head.

"Baby steps," she agreed, reaching up and caressing Fitz's cheek with the back of her hand, "for now, this is lovely."

Content to simply watch the end of the movie and ignore the amorous activities going on less than ten feet away, the couple enjoyed the closeness the moment afforded - seeking comfort in each other just as it appeared their friends also were.

Simmons smiled as she felt Fitz's hand rub her back, and he pressed a kiss to her temple that the young scientist revelled in.

"So what do you reckon about those two, eh?" Fitz asked, his tone somewhat reflective. Intercepting Jemma's uncertain expression, he added, "Skye... and Ward. You think it'll last?"

She mulled over his question for a moment and then a wholly amazed and slightly amused expression settled on her face.

"Do you know... provided of course we escape from S.H.I.E.L.D.'s clutches and are not all horribly murdered, tortured, brainwashed, or otherwise the subjects of... very bad things... I rather think they will."

She sounded as surprised by her own summation as she looked on the subject, and Fitz laughed as he too felt the same sense of amazement overcome him.

"I think so too," he nodded, considering for a moment just how ludicrous the idea would have seemed less than a year ago. Suddenly imbued with an uncharacteristic confidence, he added, half in jest, "Hey, maybe in the future they'll be having this conversation about us. I mean, 'you and me'..."

Scoffing at the concept, Jemma snuggled further into the crook of his arm and wrinkled her nose to demonstrate her total dismissal of his suggestion.

"Don't be ridiculous, Fitz," she chided him, smoothing her palm over the blue chequered pattern of his shirt with a wholly snooty air about her. Fitz swallowed hard, sick to his stomach for just a moment as he turned over her response in his mind.

"Well... I mean... Why is it ridiculous?" he pressed, his tone expressing his slightly crestfallen feelings on the matter. If there was to be no future for him with Jemma Simmons, then Fitz wasn't certain that his own fate would be at all important to him any more. After all, there were some things that just couldn't be lived without.

With more assurance than he thought he had ever heard in his life, Jemma thought about it for only a second before she replied, "Because, silly, we're FitzSimmons."

At once soothed by her answer, Fitz let out a puff of laughter on the breath that he had been holding, and his quickened heartbeat began to steady again.

Quietly, he assented, "Aye, that we are."

They watched the rest of the film in perfect, comfortable silence - as lost in each other as Skye and Grant were. Even if just for a few hours, everything was as it should be.


	18. Lost Feet On The Road

__

Her hands shook as she lifted the coffee cup to her lips, drinking the lukewarm liquid down in a gulp. Her nervousness was in part due to their position being so public and exposed, but also partly because of her uncertainty as to whether her plan was about to blow up in their faces.

She replaced the cup on the table and Ward's hand immediately covered hers, his thin smile assuring. His eyes were on her for mere seconds before they were once again sweeping the all but deserted diner, searching for any traces of S.H.I.E.L.D. or some other government agency. He found none. The waitress continued to shuffle around at a snail's pace, checking salt sellers and wiping down chipped tabletops, whilst the radio blasted far too loud from the kitchen hatch, behind which the chef tossed another half dozen burgers on the grill.

"Anything?" Skye asked, striving to maintain a nonchalant tone. Her voice shook terribly though, betraying her unrest.

"We're clear," Ward answered, his leg brushing hers under the table in what she assumed was a deliberate gesture. It wouldn't do to be too tactile in public, especially when they were being hunted, and so Ward instead offered his assurance in a more subtle manner.

"He's a half hour late," replied Skye, her gaze ticking to the door again, despite the fact that the bell overhead had not chimed to signal a new arrival.

"Try to calm down, baby," Ward said quietly, sipping at his own black coffee and peering at Skye over the rim of the mug, "we can't afford to lose control here. Too many civilians."

Puffing out her cheeks, Skye stole another furtive glance around the diner, her hands clasping the edges of her cup like a vice as she attempted to stop them shaking quite so evidently.

Changing the subject in hopes of lessening her nerves, Ward began hesitantly, "FitzSimmons... you noticed anything different about them lately?"

Attention immediately secured, Skye frowned as she mulled over his question.

"Well, yeah, but... we're.." lowering her voice she widened her eyes, "you know, on the run... they're just twitchy."

Leaning back in his seat, Ward took another sip of coffee and shook his head, "No. That's not it."

Skye swallowed down another shot of coffee with a grimace as she suddenly caught on to his inference.

"What? No! They're not... they're not... _doing that_."

Ward smirked, reaching out to the basket of fries that sat between them before tossing a couple into his mouth. Skye had yet to so much as glance at the food, let alone touch it; a sure sign of her anxiety.

"I don't know," he countered, "they seem pretty close."

Feeling her own hunger ignited finally, Skye reached for the basket and shot a scowl at Ward as she began to nibble on the cold fries. They were long past enjoyable or even passable but her mouth watered nonetheless and her stomach seized with hunger.

"No. No way. You and I..." she gestured between them, her smile widening as she raised her eyebrows, "we're _close_. They're just... No. We'd know if they'd hooked up. The four of us are together all the time."

"Not all the time, Skye," Ward replied, his inference evident thanks to his smirk.

"Behave," she scolded him, although obviously somewhat amused if the twinkle in her eye was anything to go by.

"Now I'll bet you think leaving them back at the apartment was a good idea," said Ward, draining the last of the coffee from his mug and then setting it down next to the fries, which he had to admit were among the worst he had ever tasted.

Shrugging her shoulders, Skye answered in somewhat more sombre tone, "They can't take care of themselves the way we can. They're not used to living like that… not trusting people and knowing just how badly they can hurt you."

"They're fine," Ward soothed her, lacing their fingers together across the table in a gesture of comfort, "we left them with weapons, and nobody knows about the apartment I have here. Not even Garrett knew. It was a cash sale, no paper trail at all. Just try to relax a little."

Skye shook her head, a wry smile in place as she replied, "Not possible right now, Grant. There's too much at stake here, and it looks like we just lucked out with our reinforcements."

"They're not our only reinforcements," Ward reminded her, staring down at their joined hands for a moment as he was unwillingly reminded of another time and another diner, and of the choices that had destroyed his life.

"But they'd be pretty amazing back-up," Skye muttered, turning as the bell above the door jingled, and she sighed when a blonde haired woman bustled through. "And we need all the help we can get right now."

A couple of diners suddenly caught her eye as they took a seat in the booth next to them, but a cursory glance told her that they were not their new contacts, and Skye let out an impatient sigh. Anxiety swirled in her gut and she licked her lips, her eyes darting from the counter to the door, sweeping each and every body that filtered in and out of the diner with an increasing sense of desperation.

Ward turned her hand over in his, absently stroking his thumb in circles around her palm and up and down her wrist as he appeared lost in thought. The gesture caused her head to turn from where she was keeping a vigil on the doorway, and she curled her fingers around his in response.

"Quit the brooding," she ordered, lifting his hand and placing it against her cheek so she could lean into his touch.

"It's not that easy, Skye," Ward replied, his tone dour. She shook her head, placing her hand against his to hold it in place as she nuzzled his palm.

"Sure it is. Let's make it that easy," she challenged him, although her words were said gently and with an air of encouragement that she had hoped would spur him into resolving to heed them.

"It's just…" Ward began, suddenly falling silent under Skye's expectant gaze. When he remained quiet, making no move to finish his sentence, her expression grew probing and she arched an eyebrow at him.

"What?" Skye demanded, blinking in surprise as Ward directed her attention to the immense front window, behind which stood a man on the street, flanked by two others. His steely grey eyed gaze was quite obviously affixed on Skye and Ward, and the former found herself holding her breath as the latter flung a few crumpled bills on the tabletop to cover their ticket.

With only several seconds to take in the man's appearance, Skye quickly observed his battered denim jacket, the thick blonde stubble that peppered his jawline, and the haunted look in his eyes. It took her a fraction of a moment to deduce that he was their man, and she was flying out of her seat towards the door with Ward hot on her heels and calling out to her to wait. Rather than linger in position on the street, the man and his two companions seemed to merge into the crowd, bobbing out of sight before Skye had both feet on the sidewalk again.

"Skye!" Ward called out again, sighing in exasperation as he jogged after her, drawing to a halt as he found himself staring down an alley-way, where his girlfriend was now apparently in some sort of face off with their three contacts. Eyeing each of them in turn, Ward nodded slowly.

"Gentlemen..." he began, his tone even as he stepped slightly in front of Skye and tried to usher her behind him with little success. Forgoing any formalities, a tall, fair haired man swept his gaze analytically over the pair.

"So... S.H.I.E.L.D. wants our help, huh?"

"We're not S.H.I.E.L.D.," Skye stated, her tone belaying her disappointment at the truth behind the statement. After everything she'd done, how hard she'd worked to become an agent, having that suddenly wrenched away by Coulson's unlikely dictatorship was a bitter pill to swallow. "Not any more."

"I'm not an idiot," the same man retorted, his gaze landing only briefly on the man who had taken the centre of the triangle, "I did my research, Agent Johnson."

"We were with them, but not now," Skye protested, shaking her head vehemently as she continued to stare at the man in the middle of the group, "if you've really done your research, you'll know that we're currently rogue… there are orders from Director Coulson himself to…"

"Yeah, we know," the man that had held Skye's attention finally declared, stepping forward to the centre of the alley. He stared at Skye, clearly weighing her up where she stood, with apparently little concern for the possibility of her using her powers against him.

"Hey, we shouldn't…" the blonde at the outer edge of the group began to protest, before the man in the centre held aloft one hand to procure silence.

"That's enough, Craig," he snapped, "we're all in danger here. It's too public."

The man who appeared to be their designated leader took a step forward, his eyes landing squarely on Ward, who he had perhaps ascertained to be their biggest threat. Little did he know of course that both former S.H.I.E.L.D. agents were a literal force to be reckoned with, and their patience was beginning to wear thin.

"Why don't you tell me exactly what it is you want, and we can all go back to our lives?" he drawled, although his feigned air of boredom was hardly believable. Detecting movement from Skye's direction, he stood up straighter, his hands tensed at his sides.

"We know where your sister is," Skye stated, watching the other two men closely as she awaited a reaction. They exchanged glances but not words, and she raised both eyebrows as she watched Molly's older brother for his response.

"And we want to help you find her," Ward added, noting how the man's jaw tensed and his Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed.

"Oh, yeah?" he smiled slightly, "why would you want to help me do that?"

"Because we tried to help her once already," Skye volunteered, regret flashing across her features so rapidly that she could not prevent it. Intercepting and translating her expression, a sour frown twisted Molly's brother's lips.

"What exactly does that mean? You tried?" he repeated, his voice dropping an octave to become an almost menacing growl. He took a step towards Skye, who raised one hand in warning; she would not hesitate to defend herself, should the need arise.

"We are not your enemies," Ward cautioned the man, also hazarding a single step forwards, although his body language was as non-threatening as he could manage, given his escalating nerves and the other Inhuman's proximity to Skye.

"I promised Molly that I'd help her and I don't break my promises," Skye continued, her hand still poised in readiness, "but she's in the company of some very bad people right now. They won't hesitate to hurt her, and then they're coming for us all."

The blonde man eyed them intently, "Us? You're both Inhuman?"

Skye gave an almost imperceptible nod before answering, "Yeah. We are. My mother was the leader of Li Shi."

First exchanging glances with Ward, she allowed her arm to fall to her side, watching as their new acquaintance crossed his arms over his chest and shook his head as if confused.

"That so? Files didn't mention that. And why in the hell would fucking Inhuman royalty be working for S.H.I.E.L.D.?" he demanded.

"It's a long story," Skye assured him, "but we're here to help, for Molly and the baby."

The single word seemed to prick his interest, and he clearly had to fight hard to prevent himself from reeling back, "Baby? Molly's pregnant?"

His jaw set in anger even before he had received an answer; he muttered to himself furiously, a string of expletives that left Skye and Ward in little doubt as to how he felt about Chase falling easily from his lips.

"Well, we can't help who we love, right?" Skye forced a smile, her eyes catching Ward's. He watched her steadily, careful to give nothing away in his expression to the surrounding Inhumans, who he didn't doubt wouldn't hesitate to exploit their feelings for each other, if the opportunity were to present itself.

"I'm going to kill that little son of a bitch," Molly's brother ground out through a tightly clenched jaw.

"Yeah, well, you may not need to bother," Ward said pointedly, rolling his eyes in an obvious effort to convey his irritation with the situation. "Are you going to trust us or not? Accept our help or go it alone? We don't have all day for you to make a decision."

Skye shot Ward a warning look, which he ignored, refusing to so much as glance in her direction. Instead, his bored and annoyed gaze rested squarely on Molly's brother, who ground his teeth together as he levelly regarded Ward. It was a strange, silent kind of stand off, where neither man seemed likely to back down first. Skye's money would always be on Ward though, and in the end the bet paid off when Molly's brother broke his stare, looking away as quickly as though a bucket of ice water had been dumped over his head.

"The longer they have Molly, the less likely it is that I ever see her again," he conceded, his eyes instead falling to Skye, who he mistakenly seemed to view as the less dangerous of the pair. "I don't trust either of you… but we need all the help we can get, I guess."

"Well, aren't you the sweet talker," Skye quipped, folding her arms across her chest and allowing her hip to jut out slightly to her right. "But you're not wrong. Molly and Chase need our help, and so does everyone else S.H.I.E.L.D. has locked up in that hole."

Holding up his left hand slowly, Ward reached into his jacket pocket with his right, producing a piece of paper with coordinates scrawled on it.

"Be here tomorrow, zero six hundred hours." Casting a derisive glance around the alley at the man's 'associates', Ward added, "And make sure you're armed. S.H.I.E.L.D. will be gunning for all of us. This is going to get ugly, make no mistake about that."

He watched as a distinct look of fear flitted across the faces of the men, and he was once again transported back to a time long past, when he faced going on a covert op with Fitz. Entering into a situation that offered certain death if they were to fail was something he was used to as a Specialist, but back then he'd been accustomed to having more reliable back-up waiting in the wings should he require it. Now, the only person he trusted implicitly in the field was Skye.

Molly's brother scanned the paper for a few moments before he met Ward's apparently bored glare. "We'll be there."

Suddenly balling up the paper in his hand, the Inhuman held the wad in his opened palm and, slowly, it began to hover in the air, resting an inch or so above his skin.

"Photographic memory," he assured them with a smug smile. He moved as if he were about to throw it but before he could so much as flinch Ward had reacted, and the ball of paper burst into flames.

Turning on his heel, Ward offered them a careless shrug. "Let's hope so."

Masking the confusion she felt admirably, Skye rushed to Ward's side, forced to take two hurried steps to match each one of his. It was difficult to resist the urge to slip her arm inside his and so she jammed both hands into the pockets of her jeans, bowing her head as she prepared to duck out of the mouth of the alleyway.

"Wait…" Molly's brother shouted, his arm on Skye's shoulder as he spun her around to face him. Ward managed to insert himself between Skye and the other man in the blink of an eye, his glare murderous and the fingers of his raised right hand blazing with miniature flames.

"Don't touch her again," he commanded, satisfied when Molly's brother eyed his burning fingertips and took a generous step backwards.

"I don't… I just…" he stammered, licking his lips in a clear display of his nervousness, "come and meet the others."

"Others?" Skye queried, eyes sliding sideways to Grant, who was wearing a smile that was half dangerous and yet half smugly satisfied. She realised that Molly's brother and his band of Inhumans were playing quickly into Ward's hands. It had seemed strange to her that a Specialist with Grant's experience would consider throwing his lot in with a group of wannabe vigilantes that he had met only five minutes prior. It was suddenly evident that what Ward had actually done was manufacture and manipulate the situation until it seemed likely that Molly's brother would extend an invitation to their inner sanctum. Once there he would be able to discern just exactly what kind of people they were dealing with, and if they were indeed equipped to help in the fight against S.H.I.E.L.D. Grant Ward was many things, but he wasn't about to wade neck deep into a fight with a group of inexperienced and terrified post-Terrigenesis kids as back up.

The Inhuman blanched, licking his lips as his jaw tensed and he seemed to deliberate over just how much to share with his rather insistent new 'friends'.

"There's a few of us holed up just outside of town."

"A few? What's a few?" Ward demanded, his head tilted back as he regarded the shorter man with an effortlessly intimidating air.

"Grant..." Skye warned quietly, realising that Molly's brother was starting to sense that he was out of his league if he intended to make an enemy of Ward.

"I guess... thirty? Thirty five? Men and women..." he informed them, halting as Ward arched a dark eyebrow.

"Inhumans?" Skye queried, "they've all gone through Terrigenisis?"

The fair haired man shook his head, "No, not all. Some have their powers, some... are just real pissed off with S.H.I.E.L.D."

Ward smirked, jamming his hands in his pockets as the urge to feel quite so intimidating began to wane. Skye intercepted his grin with a quick elbow to his side, and he cleared his throat before he tried to offer up a mildly repentant smile.

"So, what do you say?" the man pressed, doing his best to still appear somewhat in control of the situation, which in reality had rapidly escalated beyond his reach.

Smirk still in place, Ward nodded his head as he replied, "Let's see what you got to offer."


	19. Life's To Waste

As a show of good faith, Ward and Skye had slipped the black bags that had been thrust upon them over their own heads, allowing themselves to be herded into the back of a van that had made its way seemingly clear across town before rumbling to a halt. Ward had been careful and certain to keep his body pressed up against Skye's, partly paranoid that the Inhumans were making a move to separate them with their overt show of security. Sensing Ward's unease, Skye had obligingly remained near, ensuring that their fingers or knees brushed every so often, just to assuage his nerves.

When the door to the back of the van slid open, many pairs of hands reached for the couple gently, helping them to right themselves on the ground and beginning to lead them to their final destination.

"Okay... here we are," Molly's brother stated, indicating that it was now time for their new associates to remove the covers from their heads.

Squinting momentarily against the invasion of light, the couple stood side by side and surveyed the farmland around them. Endless fields and woodland stretched out as far as the eye could see. Ward had calculated that they were little more than twenty minutes outside the city, and though he had a vague idea of their current location, the isolated farmhouse and dilapidated outbuildings came as something of a surprise. He had been expecting more of a coordinated encampment, not a homestead.

"Home, crap home," one of the men acknowledged with a smirk, nodding his head to encourage the pair to follow the rebels' leader into the old house. A crowd had started forming, and Skye managed a smile for each distrustful face that scrutinised them as they passed by.

"There are kids here," Skye whispered in surprise, taken aback at the children that eyed her with equal parts curiosity and fear.

Ward nodded, although it was a different emotion entirely that overcame the Specialist. "Yeah? Well I hope they're not the rebel army we were promised."

The couple entered the farmhouse through a crumbling doorway, following in the wake of Molly's brother and Craig, who seemed to be his right hand man from what Ward could gather.

Skye tried not to allow her eyes to linger too long on the chunks of plaster falling free from the walls or the cigarette burn marks littering the almost threadbare carpet she trod. Instead, she kept her gaze trained on Grant's back, her fingers twitching at her sides as her powers crackled to the tips of her nails in readiness for a threat to appear.

Finally, they ducked into a side room and emerged in a kitchen, which seemed to be in a somewhat better state of repair than the rest of the house. A kettle whistled on the stove top and a trio of women sat around the table, waiting for the hot water to add to their mugs. They exchanged confused glances as Skye and Ward entered behind their friends, but a reassuring smile from Molly's brother seemed to ease the tension from their shoulders somewhat.

"Ladies, would you mind giving us a few minutes?" he inquired, inclining his head towards a second partially closed doorway, from behind which shrieks of childish laughter emerged.

Without murmuring a word, the women pushed back their chairs and almost scurried from the room, the last shooting a wary look in Skye's direction as she herded her friends out of earshot.

Shooting Ward a sideways glance, Skye leant in closer and whispered, "I feel like I'm being recruited for a cult."

Ward smirked, hiding his reply discretely behind a pointed clearing of his throat. "Why do I feel like you're talking from experience?"

Shrugging lamely, his girlfriend shoved her hands into her pockets and pursed her lips. "Well, there was this one time, this like... street preacher guy..."

Sensing the impatient eyes and ears of their hosts upon her, she clamped her lips shut, shaking her head at Ward and indicating that she'd save that story for another time. Possibly one that included alcohol.

"Take a seat," Molly's brother directed, watching as Ward surveyed the room before sitting at the rickety kitchen table, his hands atop the marked, worn surface, ready to react should he have to. Skye sat down beside the Specialist, taking a deep breath as Molly's brother sat opposite her. His hands knitted together as he peered at the pair with a curious combination of suspicion and hope.

"I'm Matthew, by the way," he declared, chuckling as he added with a quirk of a brow, "but I guess you already knew that, huh, Agent Johnson?"

"Actually, it's Skye," she corrected him, folding her hands on the tabletop where he could see them before she continued, "and if you're trying to keep this little operation secret then I'd suggest not registering a cell phone contract in your actual name. Burner phones, dude… try them."

Matthew frowned, poised to defend himself momentarily, but his look of irritation quickly faded into one of acceptance.

"I guess that's sound advice," he replied, although somewhat grudgingly if the set of his lips was any indication to go by.

"Why did you invite us here?" Ward asked, tipping his head slightly as he regarded the other man, who he assumed was perhaps only a handful of years older than Molly. Of course, Skye already knew a number of details about Matthew Hayes but Ward hadn't bothered to ask much beyond his capability as an Inhuman. Skye had managed to obtain the Hayes children's actual birth records along with a copy of their DCS files. Both children had been seized by the state from a single father with a dangerous addiction problem, and it had appeared that there had never been any real interest in so much as fostering the pair. Whilst Matthew had eventually aged out of the care system, Molly had evidently lost touch with her brother before taking up with Chase and making their premature escape out into the wide world.

"You said you can help us save Molly and I want to believe that's true," Matthew said, a flicker of something familiar ignited in his eyes as he spoke. He swallowed hard and pressed his own palms flat against the table to keep them from shaking, his entire posture reeking of guilt and self loathing.

"I left her behind without looking back. She was still just a kid and I… I left her when she needed me most," he lamented, genuine regret colouring his tone, "by the time I got myself together and tried to make contact, she'd run away with that little punk and it was too late. I started looking. Never found much to go on."

"You didn't seem surprised when I told you that she's in government hands," Skye observed, working hard to keep her expression neutral when she could almost feel her empathy for Matthew's familiar story bleeding from her pores.

"Nothing they do surprises me... half the people in this damn compound have spent their entire lives on the run from your friends at S.H.I.E.L.D... or the Nazi guys... not much to choose between those bastards."

Ward didn't so much as flinch at the mention of both his former 'employers', but his demeanour softened somewhat as he stated, "Like we said, we'll help you get your sister back, but if you've got men here who'll help us take the fight to S.H.I.E.L.D. instead of hiding out, it'll make our job a hell of a lot easier."

"Men or women," Skye added pointedly, arching a dark eyebrow in Ward's direction, which he deflected with an apologetic nod.

"Or women," he affirmed, watching as Matthew nodded and began to nervously clench and unclench his fists.

"There isn't a soul out here who doesn't want to serve S.H.I.E.L.D. up a little slice of karma pie," his tone suddenly serious, he widened his eyes and held the pair in an unwavering gaze, "these folks? They want their lives back, they want to stop looking over their shoulders all the damn time, they want their families to grow up just like every other kid. They'll fight with us, cos we're fighting for our lives, Agent Ward."

"Haven't been 'Agent' Ward for a long time..." he deflected with a faint smile, "so let's drop the formalities, I doubt anyone here wants to put their trust in a couple of former S.H.I.E.L.D. agents."

Matthew blinked, eyes drifting to the window before they landed squarely back on Ward's face.

"I'll do anything to make it right with Molly. Anything."

Nodding, Skye awarded the man a smile, "Well, that's a start."

"What are they doing with our kind? In their big, fancy facility that you mentioned in your message…" demanded a voice from the corner of the room, that had been up until that point completely silent.

Skye's gaze was drawn quickly to Craig, who leaned against the kitchen wall with one foot against the plaster and his arms folded tightly over his chest. The glare he directed at Skye was not only distrustful but also scathing, and she bristled with annoyance as she regarded him.

Deciding not to mince words, she glanced between Craig and his apparent leader, as she replied, "Experimenting."

She paused for a moment, banishing her thoughts from settling on Lincoln, and how he had betrayed her trust, and indeed their people. "A doctor has found a potential cure... they're testing it out."

"Cure? Do we look sick to you?" Craig demanded, his eyes landing on Ward as the latter sat up straighter in his chair and affixed the kind of glower onto his face that seemed to force the Inhuman to step back, arms folded defensively across his chest.

"He's an Inhuman himself, I guess he doesn't like being 'different'," Skye explained, "but the 'cure' is experimental, it... it's not been trialled before."

"So they've got Molly trussed up in there like a god damn lab rat?" Matthew raged, his knuckles whitening as he inhaled slowly, nostrils flaring with the effort.

"Do we even know how many Inhumans they got in there? Their powers? Ages? Anything? Or are we going into this as blind as it sounds?" Craig snorted, shaking his head and rubbing his jaw with one hand.

"S.H.I.E.L.D. aren't stupid, they've kept this facility well hidden. There are no traces whatsoever to be found on any internal databases, just what I have from Director Coulson's personal email account, which isn't a lot to go on," Skye said, watching Matthew carefully for his reaction. A thoughtful look permeated his features.

"So how do we know we're not going to be slaughtered as soon as we set foot in there, huh?" Matthew asked, adding quickly, "I can't walk my people to their deaths. I won't do it."

Ward scowled, "You're not our only allies."

"Yeah?" Craig challenged, his bravery seeming to pique once again. "You going to let us in on your big secret?"

"No," Ward laughed, his eyed darting up to land on Craig, as he leaned back in his seat as if their attempt at intimidation amused him; which of course it did. If Grant Ward had been lethal before his transformation, he was beyond the point of dangerous now.

"This all some sort of joke to you?" Craig demanded, narrowing his eyes as Ward stared back at him impassively.

The Specialist shrugged, non-plussed, "Not especially. It's my people on the line here. I'm just as invested in this as you. Which is why I need to know you're not all just a bunch of backwoods dwelling screw-ups."

"Grant…" Skye began tentatively, placing her hand gently on his knee.

"This is personal for me, you son of a bitch!" Matthew interjected, slamming his fist down onto the table in rage.

Ward tilted his head, eyeing the man closely, pleased to see some sort of impassioned response to his deliberate goading.

"It's personal for me too," he stated, casting a fleeting glance at Skye.

"This is bigger than some… friends with benefits deal," Matthew growled, his voice rising, "Molly and me, we're family."

Ward barely waited a beat before he replied coolly, "Skye is my only family, and I'm hers. I won't risk our lives on you, kid. Not if I'm not one hundred and ten percent certain that I won't regret it."

For a moment, the two men stared aggressively down at each other, their jaws tensed in a similar fashion and their bodies visibly trembling with nothing more than the rage that coursed through them.

"You can rely on us to save your sister," Skye interjected finally, the tone she used to cut in managing to be both patient and yet forceful, "but you have to be straight with us, or we'll have no choice but to walk."

Matthew stared at her for a moment before taking a slow, deep breath, as if coming to a decision on their collaborative efforts.

"I can have thirty to forty men and women ready to go by sun-up tomorrow. All armed, some powered… all hating the fucking guts of this government. Some of them got people in the camps. They're trained… not like your fancy S.H.I.E.L.D. shit, but they're good people, and they won't let us down."

"They'll follow you?" Ward checked, drawing a small circle on the worn wooden table top with the tip of his finger.

Matthew nodded firmly and Craig snorted from his sentry post.

"To Hell and back," drawled Matthew.

"Good," Ward said dismissively, standing up from his seat and glaring at the amateur bodyguards, who instantly moved forward. "Because that's not far off where we're going. This is a burner phone. We'll call you in the morning with our exact location. You'll need to have everyone ready and assembled to move just before dawn. Any problems, you call the number stored in the memory."

Matthew picked up the phone Ward tossed onto the table, jamming it in his pocket as one of his men - apparently feeling brave - suddenly demanded, "Hey, who died and left you two in charge of us, anyway?!"

Arching a dark eyebrow, Skye glared at him until he shrank back under her scrutiny. Standing at Ward's side, she replied curtly, "My mom."

Puffing out a laugh that lacked any kind of genuine amusement, Matthew nodded his head. His tongue shot out, the tip licking cracked lips as he deliberated his next move. Then, finally, carefully, all reluctance locked away in a compartmentalised box, he extended his hand to Ward.

"Good man," Grant declared, seizing the younger man's hand in a firm shake. He allowed his powers to lick the surface of the skin, just enough that Matthew would feel a fraction of the heat of his flames but not actually be burned. The ploy worked like a charm and, intimidated, Matthew snatched his hand back.

"Okay, I get it," he conceded, voice growing quieter as he added, "this is your show. We'll fall in. I just… I just want my sister back, safe and sound."

Skye shot Ward a look, working hard to contain and mask the sympathy she felt welling up inside of her at the man's words. She didn't doubt his motives; after all, she had grown up in the care system too, and she knew the strength and intensity of the bonds that could be forged in those fires.

"We will get her back," Skye said, her voice growing hard and cold as she declared, "S.H.I.E.L.D. better make no mistake about that. We'll get them all back."

****x-x-x** **

They strolled down the dimly lit hallway of the apartment building, arm in arm, two bags of take-out clutched in Ward's free hand as they made their way back to their temporary haven. FitzSimmons had been holed up in there for hours working on the 'The Motherboard', the key component of their plan, and sustenance would undoubtedly be appreciated.

Pausing to retrieve his keys from his pocket, Ward felt Skye's eyes upon him, and was surprised to find her grinning up at him when he turned to meet her gaze.

"Friends with benefits?" she giggled, and Ward too laughed at the insinuation. Leaning closer, he stared at her with such unyielding intensity that she felt her stomach dip, and as her fingertips moved to caress his jaw, Grant closed the distance between them to claim her lips in a hungry kiss.

A jolt of desire flourished within her chest, and she felt her body mould to his, practically humming with electricity. She'd never felt anything like this before with any other man - a kind of euphoria that was fuelled by physical want and need, but that came from the most visceral, deepest love.

Discarding the bags on the floor against the door, Ward slid his arms around Skye's waist and dragged her closer, his kisses demanding and heady. Skye pushed him back against the opposite wall, and before she had time to think, his fingers cradled her chin and he was back kissing her again. His breathing became hard and rapid as he dragged his lips down her neck.

"You're everything to me," Grant said huskily, his brown eyes locked on hers. Skye brushed her thumb across his kiss stung bottom lip and looked at him with equal adoration.

Deciding that no words could possibly be adequate enough, Skye opted to instead respond with a further kiss; this time, a slow, languid gesture that communicated love instead of lust.

"Let's get inside," Ward murmured after they broke apart and their foreheads rested together, "it's too exposed out here. We don't want to risk being seen."

Nodding her head, Skye slipped the key she clutched in her hand into the lock, twisted it sharply and then pushed open the door. She found FitzSimmons on the other side, seated around the coffee table as they worked tirelessly, but both with their eyes affixed to the door as though the idea of who could possibly have been poised to break through it had terrified them both.

"Oh thank goodness it's you," Simmons hissed, her breath leaving her body in a whoosh and her shoulders sagging. Fitz reached out and laid a hand on her shoulder, and Skye was both surprised but pleased to see Jemma lean immediately into Leo's chest. It appeared that things in that area were most definitely progressing.

"How did everything go?" Fitz asked, his voice shaking as his eyes roved Skye and Ward, obviously searching for any signs of fresh injuries. When he found none, he seemed to visibly relax.

"Was just about to ask you guys the same," replied Ward, smiling as he set down the take out on the table top and gestured for the two scientists to take a break from the tangle of wires they hunched over.

"We think we have this little beauty as perfect as we can possibly get her when we don't have access to all our usual tools and lab toys," Fitz answered, rubbing the back of his neck as he looked longingly at the brown bag marked with Chinese symbols. "It should work exactly as we expect. I'd stake my life on it."

"It won't be your life at stake here, Fitz," Ward promised, shaking his head when Fitz seemed poised to object and Simmons opened her mouth in preparation to begin mutinying.

"We're not arguing about this, guys," Skye cut it, "you aren't field trained, and Ward and I can't get the job done out there if we're trying to watch out for you. There are already too many civilians on this battlefield as it is."

"But we'll be close at hand?" Simmons checked, gesturing to the pieces of machinery laying in front of them on the table, "to make sure everything goes to plan?"

"Absolutely, I've got a friend helping out with the logistics," Ward assured them, noting with a slight smirk the dubious expression on Fitz's face.

"This mate of yours… an old Hydra pal?" Fitz checked, managing to succinctly echo Skye's previous questions about his mysterious contact's origins.

"No," Skye interrupted, "not even close, I promise."

Fitz nodded, shooting Ward an apologetic smile, "Just want to be sure that Jemma's going to be safe out there, that's all. You understand, right?"

Glancing at the blushing Simmons, Ward nodded his head, watching Skye as she busied herself with doling out chopsticks and food cartons. Of course he more than understood Fitz's need to protect the woman he loved, and he intended to do all in his power to make sure that happened.

"I'll do whatever I can to keep all of you safe, Fitz," Ward promised, holding the other man's gaze pointedly, "it's the least I owe you."

Fitz puffed out his cheeks and appeared to contemplate his words for a moment before he blew out a slow breath, "The fact we're all alive and here now, I think that's enough for… you know… stuff… before."

Nodding, truly not wishing to reopen old wounds when there were newer, fresher ones still bleeding, Ward held out a plate to the other man and grinned when he accepted it. Everything that had gone before had been forgiven, even if it was against human nature for any of it to be truly forgotten. All that mattered to Ward was the fact that they were brothers again, and they would both do everything it took to keep their small family safe.

"I'm going to call my contact, set the ball rolling, and then I'll eat," Ward explained as he dropped a kiss to Skye's temple. She worried her bottom lip with her teeth but let out a hum of acknowledgement whilst she continued placing dumplings on plates.

Grant disappeared from the room, seeking the solace of the bathroom, where he locked the door more out of habit than necessity as he set about pulling up the number for Widow's burner phone. There were several and it might take some time to find the right one, and so Grant hunkered down on the edge of the bath tub as he scrolled.

Hours later, the team sat pensively over an array of tools, gadgets, and weapons. The implants for 'The Motherboard' were safely nestled in a box, and the software had been tested and re-tested until Skye and FitzSimmons were satisfied that it was up to muster.

Staring down the barrel of a gleaming handgun, Ward blew on it sharply, polishing it with a flourish before he reassembled and loaded the weapon. He placed it beside a line of other weapons - a veritable arsenal of guns, smoke grenades, tazers, Icers, and a plethora of knives that would be hidden on his person.

Simmons exhaled slowly, her stomach rolling with nerves as she clasped Fitz's hand and the pair stared down at the ground, contemplating the day ahead.

"You can head to bed guys, get some rest, huh?" Skye suggested, smiling kindly at her friends as she walked over to Ward and slid her arms around his neck. Pressing a kiss to his cheek, she watched his hands move absently over the metal, relying solely on muscle memory as he worked.

"I think we might, actually, if that's alright with you two?" Jemma replied, hoping a good night's sleep would put them both in a better frame of mind.

"You almost done?" Skye asked, glancing up as FitzSimmons trailed off to the guest bedroom, their pace slow and measured, as though their dread for the day that lay before them physically weighed them down.

"Almost," Ward said, slamming a new magazine into the gun and testing the weight in his hand. Making sure the safety catch was on, he placed it onto the table top before him and took Skye's hands from around his neck in order to pull her onto his lap.

"Nervous?" Skye asked, nibbling on her bottom lip as she gazed at Ward, knowing it was a useless venture attempting to read his expression. There were very few things that Grant couldn't keep locked down, although he had gotten better recently at letting her in.

Hesitantly, Grant nodded his head in affirmation. His fingers glided over the curve of her lips and up behind her back, where he locked his hands in place in order to pull her into his chest.

"Terrified," he finally breathed, his lips barely touching the shell of her ear. His breath was warm against her skin and she could hear the slight waver he allowed to slip into his voice as evidence that he spoke the truth.

"Scary times," Skye whispered, shaking her head before she dropped it gently onto Grant's shoulder. "Even with my powers, and the training May gave me… I still can't help but feel afraid."

"That's human nature, Skye," Ward soothed her, his hand caressing her cheek for a moment. "Inhuman nature too, I guess."

"Funny," Skye huffed out, although her tone seemed to indicate that she found the comparison anything but.

In an attempt to lighten the moment, Ward frowned and nuzzled her cheek pointedly. "And I was your S.O. too, if I recall…"

Skye laughed out loud, grinning as she bobbed her head in agreement.

"Yeah. I remember," she deepened her voice and teased, "t _ _raining starts at 5 am, don't be late__ … __That's twenty press-ups__ … __stop leading with your right__ … __Cookies are a sometimes food__ …"

At Ward's arched eyebrow, Skye shrugged before adding, "Okay, maybe that last one was Cookie Monster. But, I guess you taught me the basics… you know, before you broke my heart and made me crazy angry at you for two years."

Indicating that there was no real malice in her words, Skye smiled at him, watching as he lifted his hand and slid it across her collar bone then lower, until it rested over her heart. He brushed his thumb over her skin, earnestly lifting his eyes to meet her gaze.

"Have I fixed it yet?"

Skye placed her hand over his, keeping it pressed firmly against her body.

"Yeah," she replied softly, brushing her lips against his, "you have."

She pressed her forehead against his once again before she added slightly more sternly, "But do you think you could be less of a hard-ass on Matthew and his friends? We need them on side, Grant."

"I wanted to provoke him," he began, "I need him and his plaid wearing sidekicks to realise that you and I are in charge. I don't know, I…"

He faltered for a moment, "I just don't trust them. You need to watch yourself out there with them, if I'm not there, don't take any chances. You look after yourself, and FitzSimmons…"

"We look after each other," Skye assured him, pausing to instigate a kiss that they both so very much needed. When they pulled apart, the tips of their noses still touching, Skye allowed the ghost of a smile to pass over her lips before she murmured, "We might die, so…"

Ward's smile was roused by the faint echo of the past, and he tugged Skye closer, needing there to be not a single inch of space separating their bodies.

"We won't die," he vowed, shaking his head as though the idea was absurd, "and then when the dust settles, we're going to get out and build something just for us… something that really matters."

She pressed her cheek to his, smiling as he nipped at her bottom lip and his hands roved her back.

"It was always meant to be you and me," she stated, watching as he stared down at her as if she were his entire world; as if her love still somehow shocked him. "I know that now. Two sides of the same coin."

Ward countered the statement with a huff of laughter before answering, "You're infinitely the better side."

"No," she said firmly, her fingertip against his lips to halt any further argument. Although her rambling was designed to provide him with reassurance, she also found herself taking comfort in the premise, and she wasn't about to let distant memories of the past spoil it. "I'm not. And you know what two sides make, Ward? A whole. That's __us__ … you and me. Skye and Ward…"

Her eyes suddenly lit up with the revelation, " _ _Skyeward__! Hey, that's kind of cute. I am __totally__ shipping us."

Dispersing quickly of the delighted and slightly confused smile that settled on his handsome face, Ward feigned a pained expression and shook his head in mock disdain. He lifted Skye's chin and directed her mouth to his, kissing her with such intensity that he felt her fingernails dig into his shoulders.

"What are you doing?" she gasped as Grant stood up and lifted her effortlessly into his arms. Her legs hurriedly locked around his waist and she clung onto him tightly, her question silenced by another toe curling kiss.

"Stopping you from talking any more," he teased, kissing her again and again as he walked them towards the master bedroom.

"Please! Have you learned nothing? That won't shut me up," she insisted, slamming her hand down against the light switch as he marched them down the hall.

His kisses suddenly diverted to her neck, and as his tongue swirled hot and wet against her skin, Skye shuddered in his arms, running her fingers roughly through his hair.

Carrying her over the threshold of the bedroom, Grant toed the door closed behind them before laying her down in the centre of the bed. His attentions were once again taken up with kissing and licking every inch of exposed skin.

"That's not fair," she gasped, delighting in the feel of his weight above her and the sensations his lips and questing hands were so effortlessly evoking. "You play dirty, Ward."

His breath drifted over her throat, and she giggled when he tugged at her earlobe with his teeth before pausing to whisper his reply through the darkness.

" _ _Filthy.__ "

They had only a handful of hours until their rescue mission began, and Ward didn't intend to waste a single one of them.

****x-x-x** **

"Goodnight, Sugar Bug," Craig whispered as he closed the bedroom door behind him and stepped out into the darkness of the hallway. He paused a moment, listening intently for the quiet and even breathing of his young daughter with a rare smile painting his lips. It lasted barely seconds before loss and grief crashed over him anew, almost bringing him to his knees there and then in the ramshackle hallway. Ruby was there, alive and perfect and everything he had ever wanted, but they were gone, and the wound was raw.

Although he had spent a time blaming himself for what had happened to his wife and son - if only he'd been faster, stronger and better in every respect - his own logic soon won out. He knew where the blame should really lie, and it was squarely at the feet of the US government, or at least the most corrupt parts of it.

Walking out of the dilapidated porch, Craig dug in his pocket for his cigarettes, pulling one free from the pack and holding it between his lips as he struck his lighter against the heel of his hand. Blowing a plume of smoke, he returned the old silver lighter to his pocket and leaned over the wooden railings, looking up to survey a night sky filled with stars.

Watching as the smoke swirled up and was carried off by the breeze, he listened to the sound of the trees swaying. The peace and quiet of the evening would be a direct contrast with the chaos the morning would bring, and the Inhuman had decided to forgo sleep altogether, believing his restless mind would not be silenced anyway.

Tossing the butt of the cigarette out onto the dirt, he turned to look at the metal case that sat next to the door, under the guise of carrying munitions.

Stooping down, he opened the box, pulling back a thick, black cloth to gaze at the contents within. His eyes settling on the Terrigen crystal, a smile tugging at his lips.

He was about to settle the score and end the war once and for all.

Choice was a luxury that his people could no longer afford if they hoped for their children to survive the day.


	20. Horror Baby Blonde, I Swear

**Part One**

No longer concerned about keeping quite such a low profile since the hour of reckoning was almost upon them, Ward had hot wired a car from the parking lot of the apartment building; something small, compact and yet sleek and fast. He was careful to stick to the speed limits and highway laws, however, not wishing to provide those that may be watching them with any hints that they might be on their way to the facility.

Grant drove and Skye sat at his side in the front seat, eyes locked straight ahead on the impending horizon, whilst FitzSimmons sat entangled on the back seat. Nobody spoke. In fact, the perfect, unbroken silence in the vehicle was in danger of becoming smothering. At least that was until the burner cell in Skye's back pocket trilled loudly.

Simmons let out an audible gasp, Fitz gripped her hand with renewed vigor, Skye released a yelp, and Ward was ashamed to admit that he momentarily lost control of the vehicle, narrowly avoiding swerving into the opposite lane.

Frowning as she found the unrecognisable number flashing on the screen, Skye lifted her cell to her ear and asked tentatively, "Hello?"

After a brief pause, a familiar voice suddenly spoke hurriedly into Skye's ear, "Skye? It's May. I've been made. Coulson knows I helped you escape."

"Are you okay? Where are you?" Skye demanded in a rush, glancing up at Ward as he tore his gaze from the road ahead and shot her a questioning look. She mouthed 'May' at him and he appeared almost as concerned as his girlfriend at the news.

"About thirty thousand feet above Washington," May replied, "I stole a jet and disabled the tracking. If you'll have me… I want to join you guys. S.H.I.E.L.D. want a fight, they've damn well get one."

Skye fell silent, her heart already beginning to hammer against her ribcage as she turned over May's proposition in her mind. Although there had been little to no warning that Coulson had been on to her as Skye and Ward's accomplice, she had been instrumental in both their escape and their ability to stay alive thus far; there was no reason for Skye to doubt her, but still her stomach rolled and her mouth grew dry as her suspicion fought to overturn her logic.

"Skye?" May finally prompted, her tone on the verge of desperation, "I want to help. Please… let me help you."

Swallowing hard, Skye nodded, then realising that May could not see her, she cleared her throat and replied, "Of course. Of course you can. We trust you with our lives."

"I need your co-ordinates," May said, unable to keep the relief from bleeding into her tone. She had no desire to worry Skye further by informing her that the fuel tanks on the jet she had lifted were running dangerously low.

"I'll text them over on this number right now," Skye promised, "just be careful and make sure you get to us in one piece, okay?"

There was momentary silence on the other end of the line before May sucked in an audible breath and answered tentatively, "Skye… if I know Coulson, and I think by now we can safely say I do, he's going to have anticipated your next move. He'll be waiting for us. Are you fully prepared for that?"

With a brief smile that momentarily managed to override her nerves, Skye replied, "More than you could imagine. Coulson's not the only one with friends in high places. Text me when you've landed."

"I will," May assured her, adding hesitantly, "stay safe, Skye… all of you."

"You too," Skye said softly, closing her eyes and pressing her fingers to her forehead as the cell phone went dead, and she let it rest in her lap.

Shooting Ward an apologetic gaze she chewed on her bottom lip, "I know you don't trust her, but… if it hadn't been for May we'd never have made it off the base, or known Bobbie and Hunter were headed right for us, and I…"

"I trust her," Ward interrupted, offering a reassuring smile as he peered up into the mirror and saw the overjoyed expressions on FitzSimmons' faces.

"Wait… You do?" Skye checked, picking the phone back up and beginning to text the coordinates as promised.

"I do," Ward replied simply, placing one hand on Skye's knee in a gesture of reassurance.

Behind them, FitzSimmons exchanged jubilant smiles. They were not privy to Romanoff's involvement and thus assumed that their small team were the only ones making up their numbers, and so the scientists were relieved to also have May on their team. As a mentor and proven protector, there were few they would entrust their lives to over Melinda May.

Glancing out of the window at the rising dawn, Jemma released a relieved sigh. "The Cavalry's on the way, Fitzie."

Fitz's only reply was a small and soft smile. Ward returned his attention to the highway and Skye leaned back in her seat, her cellphone tucked away once again in her pocket. For just under a mile, they drove on in complete silence, not even the car radio turned on to break up the monotony. Instead, each occupant of the 'borrowed' car wrestled with the worry of what the impending day would bring with it, whether that be a victory or a defeat that would potentially end in a loss of life they didn't wish to contemplate. There was so much on the line, so much at stake, not just their own freedoms but that of over a hundred other men, women and children.

Finally, it was Jemma who fractured the quiet, tired of the weight of her nervousness in the pit of her stomach and hoping to imbue her friends with a confidence that she couldn't herself grasp onto.

"Now, you all listen to me," she began firmly, her voice steady and strong, "this is going to go exactly and completely to plan. We will all be fine, and we will help those people who are relying on us. I just won't accept any other alternative."

"Jem…" Fitz began quietly, his eyes almost downcast as he laid a hand on her arm. Immediately, Jemma shook off the gesture, her eyes blazing and her chin tipped upward in an act of visible defiance that set Skye smiling as she peered in the rear view mirror back at her friends.

"No, Fitz," Jemma protested, shaking her head vehemently, her ponytail whipping her cheeks as she moved, "we deserve this, and so do those people who've been through Hell. We are on the right side and… well, I just won't contemplate that anyone who has such little regard for human life could win… that they could be allowed to do such a thing."

"We'll be okay," Skye reiterated, forcing a smile as she turned around to peer at Jemma, who saw through the gesture regardless of Skye's best intentions.

"Don't pretend," the scientist all but snapped, her irritation evident as she raked both hands through the sides of her hair, "I need you to believe it, Skye. I need…"

She fell silent, breathing hard and heavy as she regarded the women she had long ago come to look upon as a sister. Jemma had been an only child, just like Fitz, with no siblings of her own to inject excitement into her childhood - with which to plan and plot and scheme in the way she and Skye so often did. She could hardly imagine her life without the other woman now, and her love and affection for her ran as deep as she expected it ever could if their bond was cemented by blood and DNA.

"I need you to know that I… that we would never let Coulson harm you," Jemma stated, her voice calm and unwavering suddenly, despite the way her heartbeat echoed in her own ears in a manner that suggested she was anything but. "You… you are family, and we won't give you up. If need be, I would die for you today, Skye."

Skye peered back at Jemma, her eyes suddenly so watery that she found herself blinking back tears even as she reached backwards for the other woman's hand. Their fingers locked together, and they clung on to each other as though they were sinking.

"Nobody is dying today," Ward interjected quietly, shaking his head.

Jemma nodded, hesitantly adding, her eyes turned towards her lap, "Same goes for you too, Ward. You're our friend… and we're with you. Whatever it takes, whatever happens. You can rely on us, I promise."

The irony of her promise wasn't lost on Ward, and he shook his head helplessly, "I'm the one who should be making you guys that promise… after everything that…"

"Just stop!" Jemma ordered, her temper on the verge of fraying, "I'll have no more talk of anything that happened all those wretched years ago. We've all moved on since then, we're… we're different people. So no more bloody talk of Garrett, or pods, or… or sodding, buggering Hydra!"

Skye smiled, leaning her head back against the back of her seat as she brushed her thumb over the back of Ward's hand and whispered, "So there!"

The sight of a road sign suddenly caught their attention, and a collective silence fell over the inhabitants of the car as they realised they were little more than thirty minutes from their destination.

"Well, I guess this just got real," Skye drawled, a kind of bravado she certainly didn't feel affecting her voice. She shot a glance at Grant, who maintained his grip on the steering wheel, his features remaining an impressive mask of calm.

"We've done everything we can, guys," added Fitz, leaning forwards in his seat and clapping Ward on the shoulder with one hand, "it's out of our hands now."

He remained hovering at Grant's shoulder, eyes roving the horizon through the wind shield. They barely passed another car on the highway, owing to the combination of the country roads they travelled and the unsociable hour of the morning.

"I suppose a game of I Spy's out of the question," Simmons said quietly, folding her arms across her chest and leaning back in her seat as she eyed the mountainous terrain.

Wordlessly, Fitz reached for her hand, and the two scientists remained silent for the rest of the journey, hoping against hope that their invention would aid them in their plan, and each offering up a prayer that before the day was over, they would all be returning home together, safe and sound.

x-x-x

Skye leaned against the broad trunk of a towering oak tree, sighing in both boredom and trepidation as they awaited the arrival of Matthew and his men. May had ditched the jet and trekked the five miles to the rendezvous point, receiving gratuitous hugs or, at the very, least appreciative smiles as she joined their ranks.

Peering through the trees, the Specialist watched impatiently for their arrival, checking and rechecking the watch on her wrist with growing annoyance.

"We're sure they're going to show?" May checked, noting Ward's dubious expression with interest. "Ward? You don't trust them, do you?"

Ward exhaled slowly, not wanting to dampen the spirits of the team with his suspicions. "They'll show… but I want you to watch them. First sign of trouble, you know what to do."

May bobbed her head, ready, willing and able to take down anyone who threatened the safety of her colleagues, or the success of their mission. "Count on it."

"It won't come to that," Skye interjected firmly, "Matthew wants his sister back just as much as we…"

Skye trailed off, her head whipping up as she heard the sound of twigs snapping in the woodlands and tree branches being pushed aside. She glanced at Grant, who took several steps forward, his hands hovering at his sides as he prepared to draw on his powers imminently.

"Did I hear someone mention my name?" Matthew drawled as he pushed through the tangle of trees, Craig and several other familiar faces at his heels.

"Where's your army?" demanded Ward, forgoing any pretence at exchanging pleasantries as he peered behind the man, attempting to discern just how many others followed in his wake.

"No more than a couple steps behind," Matthew reassured him with a nod of his head, his eyes sweeping Ward's evidently deadly figure in a respectful manner, "I said you can count on us Ward, and that was a promise."

"Who's that?" interrupted Craig, who shot a scowl at Agent May almost as an afterthought. Straightening up, the tiny woman crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him levelly, daring him to get on her bad side with a single look alone.

"She's family," Skye shot back, arching a brow as she took a step forward to bring herself level with May, who looked back at the younger woman with a faintly surprised but pleased smile gracing her lips.

"Are we ready to do this?" Matthew pressed, glancing from each of the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents in turn, his eyes flashing as he rolled up the sleeves of his shirt as though preparing for some sort of physical undertaking.

Ward appeared to relax for the moment, and he nodded his head as he peered over towards FitzSimmons, "You got the implant ready to go?"

Fitz dug into his pocket and pulled out a small box, which he tossed to Ward, who caught it in one hand. "Soon as you activate it, Jemma and I can take control of the uh… the… the subject."

"Alright," Ward placed the device safely into his pocket, glancing off at the horizon as he saw Matthew's army of rebels begin to filter in through the trees, some with rifles slung over their shoulders, others clutching handguns or other weaponry they had managed to procure.

"I'm going to find us a willing test subject, you all wait here… I'll be back soon," Grant stated, checking the guns tucked into his holsters as he prepared himself to utilise any force necessary.

"I'm coming with you," Skye stated definitely, chin tilted as she looked up at him and practically dared him to argue with her.

Ward allowed a thin smile to grace his lips as he leaned forward and then dropped a kiss on to the top of Skye's head.

"I know," he murmured, his eyes sweeping her face and lingering at her lips, almost communicating his longing to move forwards and claim them with his own. Skye returned his smile, and the moment was broken.

Simultaneously, Skye and Ward began to move forward, the latter stopping only briefly to call over his shoulder.

"Agent May is in charge. Twenty minutes for me and Quake to reach the perimeter fence, acquire a guard and neutralise the security. You wait for May's signal and then you start walking. You need to be in place and ready when the reinforcements show up. Any questions… keep them to yourself."

One by one, the line of Inhumans nodded, their eyes narrowing as they squinted against the light of the morning sun, which was climbing higher in the sky as the minutes ticked by. Crouching low to the ground, Skye and Ward began to creep forwards, inching closer to the fence of the facility, which could be seen stretching tall around a mile in the distance.

"We'll head back to the car," Fitz informed May, his voice so subdued and small that it was almost a whisper. "We can keep an eye on Skye and Ward from there using the body cameras we fitted him with. Here's a comms device, don't lose it. We need to know what's going on at all times if we're going to be able to help."

Taking position in the back of the vehicle, FitzSimmons opened up the laptop screens and began to keep a close eye on their friends' progress. On one screen, they saw the view from the pinhole cameras attached to their tac. gear, with a split screen that showed their geographical location as two slow moving red dots. The other screen remained blank for the meantime, with only the operating platform for the Motherboard open and awaiting syncing with the implant. It would take Fitz less than two minutes to knock out the satellite that controlled the aerial surveillance of the camp and the half mile perimeter surrounding the fence line, mostly thanks to the detailed instructions that Skye had left with him.

Fitz rubbed his hands together, blowing out a slow breath as he sat forward in his seat, his eyes fixated on the screen in his lap. "Come on guys, let's get cracking."

x-x-x

Having located a lone perimeter guard on patrol at the facility fence, Skye and Ward watched him closely, searching the area for any sign of further guards. They had received word via the communications line that Fitz had temporarily disabled the aerial surveillance measures, although the length of time he could keep it down for was uncertain. Speed would be of the essence, especially if Ward wanted the Black Widow's appearance to remain a surprise to the enemy until the eleventh hour.

"S.H.I.E.L.D.?" Skye whispered, noting the guard's dark grey uniform with a quizzical frown.

"No. Private contractor. This place doesn't exist on the S.H.I.E.L.D. radar, only Coulson and the President officially know it's here," Ward replied, eyes narrowed as he apparently considered their next course of action.

Skye followed him several more paces towards the fence, remaining hidden behind a copse of trees and overgrown bushes for the time being. "Is that a good or a bad thing?"

Ward cocked his head, "Depends how much they're paying them to believe in a cause, I guess. These guys are just hired guns, they're not gonna lay down their lives for a contract job. But that doesn't mean they won't put up a hell of a fight."

"There's got to be at least a few S.H.I.E.L.D. agents in on this," Skye murmured, her eyes still locked on the lone figure of the man, who was wandering backwards and forwards in front of the fence line somewhat aimlessly. Quietly, under her breath, she added, "Hunter and Morse…"

"Definitely some," Ward agreed, quick to silence Skye's thoughts before they could dwell too long on the subject of their former friends turned enemies, whose deaths they had been instrumental in. It would do no good to have Skye in a guilt ridden state of mind as they prepared to wade into the midst of a war. He reached across the short space that divided them and squeezed her hand, rousing a brief smile from her that reassured him that her head was back in the game.

"Okay, so, just like old times?" Skye queried, arching a brow as she gazed at Grant, a somewhat nostalgic look playing across her features as she contemplated their past misadventures, and the familiar pattern they had invariably adopted.

"Just like, baby," Ward agreed, winking at his girlfriend quickly. In one smooth and fluid movement, Grant pushed off from the side of the tree trunk they had been concealed behind, and jumped to grab a sturdy overhanging branch from the neighbouring tree. He hoisted himself up off the ground, swinging back and forth once before kicking the startled guard square in the chest with both feet. The man stumbled backwards, losing his grip on his rifle, which remained attached to his shoulder due to the sling affixed to it.

Before the guard could fully regroup, Grant ran several steps up the nearest tree trunk before executing an impressive roundhouse kick in mid-air, which connected with the other man's jaw. The snap of bone was audible and the guard let out a strangled kind of scream, which Skye momentarily feared might draw some attention to their location. Still, she watched from the trees, waiting for Grant's signal before she stepped forwards with the Motherboard, which she gripped in her right hand in readiness.

Grant struggled to hold the man still, flipping him over and pulling his arms behind his back as he knelt with a knee planted in the centre of his back.

The guard continued to thrash his head from side to side, making it very difficult for Skye to place the implant into the location on the back of his neck. "He's moving too much, Grant…"

Ward grunted with the effort it took to subdue him, adding a firm hand to the back of his head to press his face into the dirt. Although it would take little to no effort to render the man unconscious, FitzSimmons had been insistent in their instructions that the subject had to be awake in order for them harness his brain activity.

"We need him awake for this… fast as you can, baby."

"It's in!" Skye stated in relief, pushing the two needle like prongs through the man's skin and stepping back as both she and Ward released him from their grasp, and it seemed that a thousand volts shot through his body.

"Okay, Motherboard's activated!" Skye spoke into the comms. device positioned in her ear, "now what?"

Nervously, Skye and Grant peered down at the body of the man lying prone in the leaves, his fingers twitching every so often as the sole indication that he was still conscious.

"Five seconds and we're in business," Fitz's voice came loud and clear through the comms. system, his tone all business and bearing no indication of the terror he felt coursing through him.

Side by side, Ward and Skye watched with interest as the man slowly pushed himself up onto his knees before clambering unsteadily to his feet. He swayed from side to side for a moment and then took a lurching step forwards, looking almost as though he was intoxicated.

"Fitz, you need to figure this out," Ward said, noting the glassy and vacant stare in the guard's eyes as he jerked his head upwards as though controlled by unseen strings.

"Yeah, no way this guy isn't going to raise suspicion," Skye added, frowning as she continued to watch the guard walk in a circle, each step looking odd and awkward.

"Hang on," Simmons spoke up, her tone clearly perplexed as she added, "just need to make a few minor adjustments. Ward, hold your camera steady on him so I can see."

Ward quickly obliged, turning his body in such a way that the camera affixed to his lapel was pointed squarely at the guard, who continued to lumber around like a headless chicken.

Skye winced as she watched the man appear to perform a variety of break-dancing moves that would have put a 90's boy band to shame. "Uh, Jem… the Backstreet Boy here is gonna get us made…"

"Almost there!" Jemma intoned with an oddly gleeful note to her voice that Skye was certain came as a result of getting to try out their new invention. "Okay… and… done!"

The guard suddenly stood up straight and, eyes affixed on Ward, he blinked twice, before extending his hand as if to instigate a handshake.

"Cute, Jemma," Ward drawled, walking over to Skye before the pair trailed behind the guard, who had started towards the perimeter fence with a purposeful stride.

"Right… and we're off!" Simmons trilled, causing both Inhumans to wince as the comms. devices in their ears vibrated uncomfortably.

"Maintain radio silence until my signal," Ward whispered into the microphone, waiting patiently for acknowledgement from the scientists. When he received none, he pressed worriedly, "Jemma? Fitz?"

"Oh… you said radio silence," Fitz replied by way of explanation. Resisting huffing a sigh of exasperation, Ward turned to Skye and rolled his eyes.

"I meant after you…" Grant began, shaking his head dismissively before he added, "never mind. Once the defences have been neutralised, expect the alarm to sound, then we wait for my contact's signal before we engage."

Ward gestured to Skye as they rapidly approached the main gate, which was guarded by six armed personnel, one of whom walked an enormous Alsation on a short leash backwards and forwards. Ward grimaced at the addition of the dog, realising that its presence added yet another complication into the mix.

The agents stopped at a dense patch of foliage, dropping their bodies low to the ground and allowing their puppet to continue on to the check point, where a gruff and unfriendly voice demanded to see his ID. Ward watched with interest as the guard that FitzSimmons controlled seemed to comply easily with the order, handing over his ID card for examination before the barrier was lifted and he was ushered inside the gates.

Behind the fence line, Ward could just about make out an enormous dirt yard, around which milled groups of people, who looked malnourished, dirty and distressed. The majority of the prisoners roaming free it could only be presumed had yet to undergo Terrigenesis, and thus could hardly be considered a threat when at the mercy of countless armed men and women. Grant's gaze ticked to a tower positioned at the left of the main check point, at the top of which he could see two snipers, who were constantly sweeping the perimeter with keen gazes.

They would certainly have their work cut out for them as soon as the alarm began to blare, which it doubtlessly would once FitzSimmons managed to force the guard they controlled to cut the power to the electrified fence and cameras. Ward was hopeful that the move would also take out any high powered automatic weapons that may be in place at the facility, although he doubted that too many of those existed given the fact that such weapons were difficult to control within densely populated areas.

Skye continued to stare at the remaining guards, her features a stoic mask that revealed little about the fear and desperation that swelled inside of her. Her hands were steady as she reached for Ward, touching his arm faintly and briefly to offer them both some much needed reassurance. He flashed her a smile, poised to whisper words of comfort when movement from the dirt track road caught his eye. He swallowed down his own mounting panic as he realised that several black unmarked SUVs were making their way rapidly to the barrier, the tinted windows and obviously false licence plates informing him that whoever was contained within the middle vehicle was of great importance to the mission.

"Coulson…" Skye whispered, burying her top front teeth into her bottom lip hard as she shot a glance at Grant, dismay weaving its way across her expression.

Ward watched as the fleet of cars drew up in front of the main gates, and two figures exited each of the vehicles. Coulson was clearly identifiable within the group, as was the President's Chief of Staff, and the head of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s intelligence division.

"If this is going to make this more difficult for you, Skye…" Ward began, finding himself silenced as Skye's hand captured his and she clung to him.

"Coulson's not the man I thought he was. I guess I just have to come to terms with that. I'm not letting him murder all of these people, Grant. He'll go after the others, he'll come after us… He tried to have you killed! I'm not okay with any of this, but we have to save these people. And I don't want to live the rest of our lives looking over our shoulders all the time," she peered sadly at the yard where the captive Inhumans milled around. "It's not just their lives we're fighting for, it's ours too."

Lifting her hand to his lips, Grant kissed her palm affectionately before drawing their joined hands to his chest. "We'll have a life together, Skye. I promise. I won't let you down this time."

Shaking her head, Skye leaned up and pressed her lips to his, kissing him hurriedly.

"Shut up," she teased good-naturedly, "we're gonna be fine. And there's nobody I trust like you. So, let's go rescue all of these people, Hellfire."

"Yes, ma'am," he agreed, snatching one final kiss as the comms. receiver in his ear crackled back into life.

"Perimeter fence is deactivated," Fitz stated, "you're good to go. Proceed with caution, guys, we've got a ten minute window here."

Skye stared around the facility, looking up hesitantly at Ward "I don't see Romanoff."

Ward shrugged, beginning to make his way to the fence, where he placed his fingers around the metal wiring and allowed a flicker of heat and flame to bleed through his fingers until the wire melted at his touch. "She'll show. Natasha likes to make an entrance."

Nodding, Skye continued to keep watch as Grant melted through the wires, creating a hole large enough for them to crawl through. The sudden blaring of the alarms inside the compound caused them both to start, although it had been an expected development. The back up generator would have kicked in within sixty seconds of the power outage, although it would not be strong enough to support the electrified fence. However, FitzSimmons had warned them profusely that they could only assure a five to ten minute window during which the main power would remain off.

Skye ducked through the hole in the fence first, ushered by Ward, who followed in her wake. The line of SUVs had already been admitted into the facility, disappearing from view seconds before the alarm had begun to resound.

The ear piercing screech seemed to have thrown the camp into chaos, and Inhumans huddled and banded together, forced into smaller and more manageable groups by guards carrying a mix of rifles and batons. Skye watched it all intently from her position crouched behind a pile of crates, Ward at her side, breathing evenly despite the escalating nature of the situation.

"Guys, we have a problem…" Fitz's voice cut through the shrill ringing, his voice suddenly sounding hollow and afraid.

"There's a figure heading towards the gate from the tree line," Simmons interjected, "Agent May's comm. is down."

"Shit," Ward cursed, burying one fist into the mud as he clenched his jaw, his mind racing to formulate some sort of appropriate response to the development. If it was one of Matthew's Inhumans, then their cover was about to be blown and the element of surprise lost. If it was an enemy, then there was no telling how they would be able to effect the plan being rolled out.

"Trying to work on May's comm.," Fitz declared, the sound of his fingers dancing rapidly over computer keys clear in Skye and Ward's ears.

"Let me help," Jemma offered, and Skye and Ward continued to stare at the fence line expectantly, waiting for the intruder to eventually come into view.

Finally, there was a loud crackling in their ears and, although the two Inhumans winced, they resisted the urge to rip the comms. away.

"I… repeat…" May's desperate voice came through the system, interspersed with bursts of static that masked the majority of her words, "… headed… way… repeat… has… crystal…"

"May?" Skye barked, momentarily forgetting to keep her voice down, although the still blaring alarm succeeded in masking her almost shout. "Ward, what the hell is happening?"

Narrowing his eyes, Ward continued to stare at the main gate in silence, immediately recognising the figure moving rapidly into view. He swallowed hard, suddenly no longer assured that they could emerge from this fight victorious as he digested the scene enfolding before his eyes. Oblivious to Ward's presence and his dismay, Craig continued to run full pelt at the armed guards, a pale blue shield seemingly made of light alone surrounding his body, and a Terrigen crystal clutched firmly in his hand.

Grant's heart sank.

x-x-x

"Everybody ready?" Melinda checked, running her eyes over the Inhuman crowd standing before her. Her first guess would be approximately forty able bodies, both male and female, but the from the way in which they carried themselves she was sceptical that many of them had ever seen true combat before. She could only hope for the best and do her utmost to protect those who were incapable of protecting themselves; after all, that was what she had signed on for when she had first joined S.H.I.E.L.D. all those years ago, long before Coulson had lost his way.

"We're good," Matthew assured her, offering a smile that managed to be equal parts respectful and also fearful. May doubted that the young man had ever truly looked the prospect of his own death in the face, but his determination was etched into the set of his jaw, and she could tell that he would not be leaving the field until his aims had been achieved. She could respect that, having a vested interest in the fall of the facility herself; Skye was the closest thing she would ever have to a daughter, and the prospect of everything that Coulson and the government had in store for the young woman not only repulsed her but also filled her with a kind of rage she had scarce experienced before.

Planting her hands on her hips, May ran her eyes over the group behind her, noting with mounting suspicion how Matthew's second in command, Craig, appeared to be talking in hushed tones to small groups within their makeshift army. The hesitant and slightly nervous glances he kept throwing in her direction captured her attention, and she turned to Matthew, eyebrow raised questioningly. "Your little sidekick… what's he up to?"

"Craig?" Matthew peered around him, surprised not to see the other man at his side, where he had spent the better part of the last two years. "I… I guess he's rallying the troops, ma'am."

May's eyes blazed dangerously as she stared at Craig, easily able to lip-read at least a few of the words leaving his mouth. "Or trying to recruit them, more like."

"What? No! He wouldn't," Matthew began to argue, suddenly finding himself talking to an empty space in front of him as May disappeared from view, only to somehow turn up with lightning speed behind the errant Inhuman.

"Stay still," May snarled, pressing her Icer into the man's back and affixing her arm tightly around his throat.

"The rest of you, move out!" she shouted, noting with a spark of satisfaction how the crowd dutifully carried on ahead, spurred on by their dedication to the cause and perhaps also a little afraid of the infamous Specialist with the steely gaze.

"Problem, ma'am?" Craig inquired, sounding somewhat unperturbed for someone with the nose of a weapon trained on him.

"I think you know what my problem is," May growled back, carefully stepping around to the front of the man's body, assured in her own ability to take him down should he so much as flinch in her direction.

"I think you need to clarify," Craig declared, chuckling as he eyed May, who only arched an eyebrow in his direction. "I'm just getting ready to join the fight, like a good soldier. You seem to be the one with a problem here."

"Cut the bullshit or I start breaking fingers," retorted May, tucking the Icer into the belt on her suit, "what are you planning and why?"

Craig nodded emphatically towards the last of the rebels as they picked their way over the overgrowth and fallen tree trunks. "You think they stand a chance against S.H.I.E.L.D.? They're like fucking lambs to the slaughter. There's only one way to win this war… and that's to use the thing they fear the most… Our powers."

All too quickly, May realised the extent of Craig's plan. "And what if they don't want powers? You'd take that choice away from them? That makes you no better than Coulson."

Craig laughed softly, shrugging his shoulders as he replied, "Well now, I'm saving their lives, ma'am… so that there is the difference. They'll thank me for it in the end. And I'm afraid I can't let you mess this up for me, so…"

He lashed out suddenly, grunting as May blocked his fist and managed to capture his wrist, spinning him around and throwing him forcefully to the ground. He landed with a thud and a groan.

"You don't want to fight me," May warned, adopting a defensive stance and glaring at him with clear intent as Craig spat out the mouthful of dirt he'd swallowed and eyed her cautiously.

"No ma'am, I guess I don't," he allowed, bowing to her courteously before standing up straight and closing his eyes, his fists clenching at his sides. Within seconds a blue orb had surrounded him, encircling him in a brilliant light that left May holding her hand up to her eyes in a bid to shield them.

Attempting to launch herself at the sphere resulted in a loud hiss and crackle of electricity, and as Craig ran off into the woodland, May batted furiously at the comms. device in her ear as it shorted and sent a high pitched screech down her eardrum.

"Simmons! Fitz!" May yelled, pressing one finger to the comms. in an effort to rectify the issues that Craig's powers had caused. Hearing nothing but a burst of static on the line, May cursed loudly, her eyes following the figure of Craig as he sprinted into the distance, the Terrigen crystal he had spoken of clutched in one hand like the lifeline he so evidently thought it was.

Teeth clenched in anger, May ran ahead to lead the group of rebels once again, wincing against the sounds in her ear that signalled the microchips in the device were likely fried.

Making a rapid decision that leadership of the group was more important than hunting down the errant Inhuman that she had no chance of besting, May ran towards the front of the group, hoping against hope that Craig would meet suitable resistance in the form of Quake and Hellfire. There was nothing more she could hope to do.


	21. Horror Baby Blonde, I swear Part II

**Part Two**

Bullets began to whiz past Craig as he tore towards the blockaded gate, his head down and his fingers clutching the crystal that formed the crux of his plan. A stray round or two hit his shield head on but reverberated harmlessly off its surface, not even slowing him down as he approached his target. The dog began to growl and bark furiously, straining at the leash even as the handler struggled to pull it back to heel, but Craig continued nonetheless, not dissuaded in the slightest by anything he saw. His powers were mainly defensive, but they were the difference between life and death for Craig, and had been for several years since their emergence.

"Intruder!" one of the guards yelled before releasing a burst of fire from his rifle, which rebounded off Craig's shield without so much as making a dent.

"Ward, what do we do?" Skye demanded, her eyes wild and her tone panicked as she watched Craig hop over the barricade, men bouncing off the blue light that surrounded him as though they had been electrocuted.

"I haven't heard from Romanoff yet, she's not ready," Ward replied, narrowing his eyes as he watched Craig set their carefully constructed plans alight.

"He's got a Terrigen crystal," Skye continued, her body dangerously exposed to the guards as she half revealed herself from behind the crates, "if he releases it, every Inhuman in this courtyard will change, Ward."

"Then we've got no choice," Ward stated grimly, striding ahead and speaking into his comms. Device in a rush, "May… we need to go now!"

Skye followed at his side, extending her hand and sending a line of guards jogging towards them hurtling to the ground, some crashing through wooden outhouses and huts. Ward flung out his own hand and immediately a chain of flaming links flashed across the air like a whip, the sound alone sending some of the approaching men fleeing back to safety.

"Skye! Eleven o'clock!" Ward warned as a dozen or so guards advanced towards them, guns directed at the pair. With a single flick of Skye's wrist, the bullets stopped dead, suddenly shuddering violently in the air before dropping to the ground. Skye held her palm out towards them, sending a surge of energy in their direction, and the men flew to the ground. Ward took out another oncoming group with the release of several fire balls in quick succession. The soldiers dove out of the way as best they could, although a handful found their gear alight and flaming.

"Mind if we join the party?" May's voice suddenly rang out loud and clear in their ears, joined seconds later by the sound of a further skirmish just outside the fence. The sound of gunfire being released and returned dominated the air, and Skye and Ward exchanged worried glances.

"This is going to turn into a bloodbath if we don't get these people under cover," Skye called out, huffing as she swung a fist in an arc and landed a punch square on the jaw of an attacking guard. The men seemed to be pouring out of doorways at an alarming rate, and as fast as Ward could disable an assailant, there was another in front of him to take their place.

"Get inside, now!" Ward screamed, his eyes wide as he watched Craig take centre stage in the courtyard, the Terrigen crystal raised high above his head. Quickly, and without much time to feel even a shred of remorse, Ward snapped the neck of the man he had been grappling with, before sprinting across the yard to tackle Craig to the ground.

The forcefield had disappeared and so when Grant flung himself at the Inhuman, both men tumbled to the dirt in a tangle of long limbs. Mercifully, Craig managed to maintain his hold on the crystal, although he landed hard with a hiss of pain that rattled through his entire body.

"What the fuck are you doing?" demanded Craig in a roar as he struggled to fend Ward off with only one hand whilst the other cradled the crystal to his chest. "I'm trying to save our people."

"You're condemning them," Ward growled back, managing to land a fist to Craig's cheekbone, which snapped the man's head backwards painfully.

"At least they'll live and breathe to see another day," Craig retorted, raising one knee in a vein attempt to strike Grant hard in the groin and thus dislodge his body from atop him.

Ward rolled out of the way, landing a series of vicious blows to Craig's face and upper body, as the Inhuman tried desperately to block them all with just one arm.

Looking up to see Skye running towards them, Ward grunted as Craig managed to land a punch against his jaw. Shaking the blow off quickly, Ward began to grapple once more for the crystal. Grasping the base in his hand, Grant watched the man's eyes widen as the Terrigen began to grow hot in his hand, and all too soon a flicker of flames sprang from the Specialist's fingers, rendering the crystal almost blistering hot. Craig could not hope to maintain a grip on the object and he let out a string of yelled profanities.

"Grant! Over here!" Skye called, catching Ward's eye as he yanked the crystal free from Craig's hand and tossed it over towards her.

Catching the flying missile with her powers, Skye turned the trajectory of the object, sending it hurtling faster and faster towards the rock face hundreds of feet behind the camp.

Subduing Craig and finally knocking him unconscious, Ward stood up in time to see a cloud of dust and feel a rumble beneath his feet as the crystal smashed into the rock, burying itself deep within the cliff face.

Skye reached Ward just as a shower of bullets rained down upon them, and he spun around with his hand on her waist, pushing both their bodies to the ground. He covered her head with one hand, his cheek laying next to hers in the dirt as round after round flew at them. Gritting her teeth, Skye reached one hand up into the air, succeeding in stopping dead the bullets that had narrowly missed connecting with their bodies. She grunted as she flung her arm forwards as though throwing a ball and the bullets whizzed backwards, striking the man who had fired them initially from his weapon. He dropped to his knees, wounded and rendered harmless, and Ward clambered to his feet, tugging Skye up after him.

"Time to take this inside," Ward declared, his palm resting in the centre of Skye's back as they ducked under another hale of bullets and made a dash for an open fire door, which had been left unattended during the fray.

"Grant, wait," Skye yelled, pausing as she spotted a young boy hunched in a ball at the side of the building, tears coursing down his cheeks as he pressed tiny hands over his ears.

"Skye!" Ward protested, making an unsuccessful grab for his girlfriend as she darted back towards the line of fire. She threw herself down on the ground as though she was sliding home at first base, skidding to a halt in front of the child, who eyed her with equal measures of fear and dread. She could hardly imagine what he had seen during his time at the camp, and she felt her heart leap into her mouth as her eyes swept his dirtied, tear streaked cheeks.

"Hey, don't be scared, I'm here to help," she coaxed, opening her arms towards the little boy, who remained frozen in position, too terrified by the mingled cries of pain and sounds of bullets striking their marks. There was also the odd explosion as those Inhumans with more volatile powers made use of their gifts, doing their best to destroy the facility piece by piece as Grant and Skye had instructed.

Sending a storm of fireballs down onto the soldiers' heads, Ward ran across the exercise yard to Skye's side, bending down and wasting no time in picking up the child. As Skye used her powers to keep the guards at bay, the couple darted towards the nearest doorway, rapidly taking down anything or anyone that blocked their path.

Ducking inside the darkened stairwell, Ward glanced down at the child, his brow furrowing as he felt him shiver violently in his arms. Skye stole a final glance at the entrance before taking out the nearby cameras with a few bolts of energy that sent shards of plastic and glass cascading to the ground.

Looking up at Ward, her gaze quickly ticked to the child he carried, and she offered up her arms to take him. Shaking his head, Grant held the boy closer, "It's alright, I got him… you cover us."

Nodding her head, Skye offered the terrified little boy a warm smile, reaching out slowly so as not to spook him. She stroked back the damp, matted hair from his forehead and sought out his wide-eyed gaze. "Hey… it's okay. We're here to help you. We're gonna get you out of here."

He nodded wordlessly at her, still not brave enough to utter a word.

"You hold on, and close your eyes real tight…" Skye directed watching as the boy shrank back against Ward's chest and dutifully closed his eyes as tight as possible, one ear pressed against Ward's jacket and the other covered by a, trembling hand.

Holding Ward's eyes, Skye nodded her head slowly, and the two Inhumans began to make their way down to the laboratory, bodies dropping like flies in their wake.

****x-x-x** **

Coulson sighed as he watched the security camera footage, arms folded across his chest as he and Lincoln stood side by side. His eyes narrowed whilst he watched Skye and Ward take out over a third of their guards, most of whom had been carefully hand picked for the job due to their impressive combat resumes.

"Got to hand it to them, they make quite the team," Coulson allowed, a briefly sentimental smile settling on his features as he watched Skye stop to comfort the little boy. "You know, she's always had quite the nurturing side to her… picked it up in the orphanage, I guess. But if Skye's one thing, it's predictable…"

"Meaning?" Lincoln queried, his jaw set as he watched Ward take out the line of firing soldiers in a veritable inferno, before scooping up the child at Skye's side.

"Meaning, I know exactly where to find them," Coulson replied confidently, "she'll try to save the girl… Skye hates breaking a promise. So that's where they'll go next… to the labs."

Lincoln released a sigh that was equal parts exasperation and distrust, "And then what?"

Coulson shrugged, tapping the image and bringing the video replay to a halt. Extending his fingers against the screen, he enlarged the picture of the two Inhumans even as he silently pondered Lincoln's question.

"We kill Ward, take Skye into our custody… and… I guess you get to finally try out that modified cure you've been working on. If it's successful, I can arrange a little trip to TAHITI, and it's like none of this ever happened. She'll remember nothing… no Inhuman parents, no powers…" his lip curling in disgust as he stared intently at the screen, Coulson turned to Lincoln and offered him a pointed smile, "and no more Grant Ward."

Eyes roving the still images, lingering a few moments longer than was strictly necessary on Ward's steely expression, Lincoln felt his own lip quirking into a rare smile.

"Come on," Coulson encouraged, laying a guiding hand on the taller man's shoulder as he began to steer him towards the doorway, where a line of armed guards awaited him, "we have work to do."

****x-x-x** **

Chase could feel the fog lifting and clarity descending slowly upon him again, and so he lay still in the darkness of the cell, staring up at the ceiling as he waited for the full effects of the drugs to wear off. Usually, a guard had made a reappearance by now to stick him with another sedative, numbing both his body and brain to the points that they became rendered useless. The pattern had been the same ever since that day he had caught sight of Molly, but for some reason his last dose of the drug had been administered the previous evening and he could feel the weighted sensation beginning to ebb from his limbs.

He remained silent, flexing his fingertips by his sides and delighting in his ability to finally move them of his own volition. Something was wrong outside the four walls he had been caged in, of that he had no doubt, but Chase couldn't bring himself to care too much; he was in control of himself again, thoughts no longer muddied by the effects of medication and limbs once more cooperative, and he intended to make the best of the developments.

Chase was already busily formulating a plan when he heard the door of the opposing cell slide open, metal screeching as it was dragged across rough stone. There were a few cries of what might have been triumph and the sounds of many feet running, but Chase remained still and silent, deciding to remain inconspicuous until he had gleaned a better understanding of just what was going on.

He didn't have long to wait, however, as what he assumed to be a flash light beam suddenly illuminated the dank confines of his prison.

"There you are," a familiar voice growled, sounding curiously to be equal parts relieved and yet enraged as it added, "I ought to knock you into next month, you little shit."

"How about we save the pleasantries for after we've gotten me out of this cage?!" Chase replied, relief evident on his face as he peered behind Matthew to see one of the guards unconscious on the ground.

Using the keys he had pilfered from the guard's belt, Matthew unlocked the cell and hauled the door open, following behind Chase as he practically ran out into the hallway.

"Let the others free!" he instructed, watching the three other men bang and shake at the bars in a bid to be released, "I'm going to find Molly."

Matthew hurriedly opened the door of the next cell, tossing the man inside the key bunch in order to release the two others, before he ran after Chase.

"Hey, hold up. She's my sister, I'm comin' with you! Although I reckon those two S.H.I.E.L.D. yahoos will have beaten us to it."

"S.H.I.E.L.D.?" Chase demanded fearfully, removing the gun from the hand of a guard Matthew punched squarely in the face. The man crumpled to the ground with a hiss, eyes fluttering back in his head.

"You hear that?" Matthew demanded, suddenly pausing, and as blood curdling screams rose above the chaos around them, the two men ran faster down the hall.

****x-x-x** **

Her chest rising and falling rapidly, Skye looked around the corridor she and Ward found themselves in, staring down at the prone bodies of the guards they had effortlessly dispatched, most without the need to even utilise their powers. On their journey to the laboratory that doubled as an infirmary, they'd happened upon the child's mother, and so the little boy they had rescued from the crossfire was safely and happily deposited in her care - leaving them free to take down the guards and rescue Molly and the other Inhumans.

Pausing in front of the large, grey, metal door, Skye took a breath.

"What if we're too late? What if they've…" she found she couldn't finish the sentence, and instead the pair took up position before the door.

"Once we get the other side of this door, using our powers is out," Grant warned, his voice barely a whisper, "try not to discharge more than an Icer in there. We don't want to blow this place up before our guys are clear."

Skye bobbed her head in understanding, sucking in a slow and steadying gulp of air as she tucked her handgun into her belt and instead withdrew her Icer. Once they stepped into the lab, the playing field would be levelled in Coulson's favour; there were far too many sensitive and potentially flammable compounds stored inside for either her or Ward to risk using their particularly destructive powers. After all, this was a rescue mission, not a suicide.

Pausing, Ward laid a gentle hand on Skye's shoulder, turning her body slightly in order to peer down into her eyes, where he saw turmoil reflected back at him.

"Coulson is probably waiting for us in there," he added, his eyes narrowing as he watched a flash of pain cross Skye's features. She nodded again.

"I know," she whispered back, squaring her shoulders as she continued, "I'll do whatever needs to be done, Grant. You have my word."

Indecision flickering across his features as he debated whether it was the right time or place, Ward finally leaned forward and initiated a deep and passionate kiss - the kind that usually Skye would have insisted had made her toes curl. She threw herself into reciprocating the gesture, one hand laid against the stubble dappling Grant's jaw as she drew herself up onto tiptoes to meet the demands of his tongue.

"Really?" a voice demanded from the opposite end of the corridor, succeeding in wrenching Skye and Ward suddenly apart. They were breathing hard, cheeks flushed and eyes watering as they turned to regard the interruption. Matthew stood at the end of the hallway, staring at them with open contempt, whilst at his side a tall, muscular but evidently young man lingered, looking equal parts awkward and desperate as he surveyed the two former agents.

"Nice of you to join us," Ward stated, arching a brow that almost dared Matthew to offer up further comment regarding what he had seen. Wisely, the other Inhuman chose to let it go, striding down the hall in a measured pace with the other man easily matching his steps.

"The lab is protected by retinal scanning technology," Skye said as she tapped away at the keypad affixed to the wall, the wailing of the alarm apparently not serving to put her off. She continued to address the panel, chewing on her lip as she worked, then added, "It's going to take me a couple of minutes to bypass this. You guys will need to watch my back."

Finally, the blonde man, the new addition to their party, spoke, his voice soft but filled with confidence as he declared, "Here, let me."

Skye stepped back with a frown, holding up her hands and indicating that he could take over, "Knock yourself…"

She didn't have time to finish her sentence as Chase placed his hand onto the panel and closed his eyes. Within seconds the pad appeared to simply die at his touch, the lights blinking off and the door releasing with a loud click.

"How did you…" she began, watching as a brief smile settled on his face.

"That's my power… I can manipulate technology. Right now, I have to be touching whatever it is to control it, but once I get a better handle on it, I should be able to do it without being too close."

Skye smiled in acknowledgement before the team of four advanced on the door, Ward kicking it open whilst Skye held her Icer in front of her, and Matthew and Chase covered their rear.

The door had no sooner opened than Skye found the smirking faces of Coulson and Lincoln peering at them with apparent amusement.

"Took you longer than I thought," Coulson greeted them, his gaze sweeping over Skye and Ward, before landing derisively on the two Inhuman men. "Skye… there's still time to change your mind."

He smiled at her encouragingly, his voice injected with a warmth that was not communicated by his stiff posture as he coaxed, "Come home… where you belong."

Chin tilted back defiantly, Skye glared at him with unbridled rage. "I am where I belong. With Ward… taking care of our people."

Coulson shook his head, as if the idea were ludicrous and he was trying to make her see sense. "Ward brainwashed you, Skye. This isn't you! I can help you… just come home."

Skye growled low in her throat, her nostrils flaring as she repeated Coulson's words in a mocking tone, "Come home? Come home? I may never really have had one of those before, Coulson, but I know that it isn't supposed to be somewhere where you can't trust anyone, where people try to hurt you and take away your choices…. where they see you as a monster."

Coulson frowned, shaking his head back and forth again as though the idea was ludicrous, "Is that what you think? That I see you as a monster? Skye… that's not it. You're not a monster, you're just sick, and I want to help you get well again."

"The only sick person in this room is you, you son of a bitch," Matthew yelled, his hands balling into fists at his sides as he glared at Lincoln and Coulson in turn. Behind the two men stood eight guards, none of whom were armed, but all of which Ward had no doubt would be among the best in combat situations.

Chase remained quiet, his eyes roving the lab, which was ringed by metal trolleys bearing both wrist and ankle straps. Some of the tabletops were stained with a dark brown substance and Chase swallowed hard, eyes skipping quickly over the old dried blood before he allowed his mind to dwell on it too much. Various instruments that more resembled tools of torture were laid out on trays along with syringes of all sizes, whilst IV bags hung from poles, some of which were attached to the arms of prone bodies. Chase quickly counted four live Inhumans, two men and two women, but it was the smallest of these figures that commanded his attention. A flash of blonde hair streaked with blood and dirt stirred his anger anew, and Chase was taking a step forward before his brain had fully engaged.

"Molly…" he whispered, his heart picking up pace in his chest as he watched her head turn slightly to allow her to face the doorway. Her cheek was bruised and her eyes were red rimmed and swollen from crying. Her cracked lips parted but she couldn't seem to utter even so much as a whisper, and yet her eyes never left his face.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you, son," Lincoln warned, eyes narrowed as he regarded the teenager, who bristled and drew himself up to his full and relatively impressive height.

"I am not your son," spat Chase, the venom lacing his tone so real and potent that even Grant was surprised by the depths the boy's hatred could apparently reach.

"Power down, Sparky," Ward dismissed Lincoln with a smirk, clearly amused by his bravado, "nobody here is afraid of you."

Lincoln glared at his nemesis with poorly concealed hatred, "I'm not scared of you either, Ward. But maybe Skye is, huh? Maybe that's why she stays with you. You brainwashed and controlled her from the beginning, everyone knows that."

It wasn't the response Lincoln expected when both Skye and Ward chuckled at his ridiculous insinuation. Briefly, the pair joined hands to display the fact that they were a wholly united front. It was thoroughly galling to Skye that Lincoln and Coulson both still claimed the moral high-ground over Grant Ward, when in every way imaginable, Ward was twice the man they'd ever be. In the eighteen months since he'd joined her team, Ward had been loyal and brave to a fault, always at her side, always ready to defend her, and spurred on by an almost desperate need to make amends for his past. He loved her with a passion and adoration she more than readily returned, and the idea that he would ever hurt her was appalling.

"You do know what brainwashing is, right?" Skye demanded, anger now outweighing her amusement, "it's taking away choice, it's taking away identity… feelings… dreams… memories… love. It's TAHITI… it's exactly what you want to do to me." At Lincoln's surprised expression, she cocked her head and scoffed, "I programmed Coulson's email security, you think I couldn't hack it?!"

"I think we've done enough talking," Chase interjected, nudging Matthew into action as he began to set out over towards the metal tables. As the two Inhumans moved, the guards behind Coulson also started forward, only falling back when the director raised one hand.

"Let them go," he said, his eyes still affixed on Ward and Skye, "they've served their purpose."

Skye felt her outrage rise in her chest but she pushed it back down, refusing to rise to Coulson's bait. She didn't doubt that he was trying to goad her into some kind of impassioned reaction, looking to make her sloppy and hoping that in her anger she would throw away all their carefully laid plans.

"Get them all out of here," Ward barked out to the two Inhuman men, "we'll meet you outside soon."

At that, Coulson only chuckled and arched an eyebrow, something in the unconcerned way he crossed his arms and continued to regard Grant sending a cold shiver of uncertainty coursing through the Inhuman's body. Coulson had something up his sleeve, and Grant had yet to discern what it possibly could be.

Chase and Matthew wasted no time in jogging over to the tables, the latter getting to work at freeing the first hostage he came across whilst the former made a beeline straight to Molly.

"Oh honey…" he breathed, his eyes pooling with tears as he reached for the restraints binding Molly's wrists, "I'm so sorry… I thought you'd be safe…"

Gathering her up into his arms, he carried her towards the door effortlessly, waiting until Matthew led the others in the direction of relative safety before he followed on behind.

"Let them go," Coulson demanded, although to who exactly his order was directed remained something of a mystery to Skye and Ward.

Until the three burly men dressed in civilian clothing came into view, their gazes focused squarely on Skye and Ward, the latter of whom glared almost pityingly at his former boss.

"Always did have to get others to fight your battles for you, Coulson."

Ignoring the remark, Coulson waved over the three Inhumans - clearly the subjects of some form of experiment. "Kill him, take her alive."

The three men ran at them with remarkable speed, two launching themselves simultaneously at Ward, who managed to send the first hurtling into the medical trolley at their side, despite being set upon almost instantly by the second. Skye battled the third with determination, grunting as she found herself thrown to the ground, but using that vantage point to sweep the guard's legs out from underneath him. He landed in a heap but quickly sprang to his feet and once again set upon her.

Ward cast a worried eye over to his girlfriend, blocking a flurry of punches from the guard who seemed to possess some degree of super human strength. Though his strength now outweighed Ward's, his fighting technique was lacking, and he had neither the agility or skill set required to take down the infamous Specialist.

Gritting his teeth, Ward grabbed hold of the man's shoulders and slammed his own head forward. There was an audible crack and pain ricocheted through Ward's skull but it wasn't severe enough to distract him from the fight. He quickly brought up a knee and rammed it home into the guard's groin, using the momentary surprise to seize the opportunity to peer into the other man's eyes. He found an air of vacancy there that was jarring, like the man was operating on instinct alone without a thought process to ground him. It was doubtlessly the work of Coulson and his lackeys, and Ward felt a pang of sympathy shoot through him as he realised that his fellow Inhumans had very little choice regarding their actions. However, it changed nothing about the situation at hand; given the opportunity, the three Inhumans would kill him without a moment's remorse.

Ward shot another quick glance towards Skye, who appeared to be holding her own well against the man that outweighed her by well over a hundred pounds. Grant looked away, returning his attention back to the man he grappled with, just as Skye grabbed a nearby tray and slammed it into the nose of her attacker, causing blood to spurt out over them both.

With a growl, Ward flung himself back into the fight, constantly wary of the positions of the other, human guards, as well as Coulson himself. From the corner of his eye, he tried his best to keep the director in his sights, convinced that he presented the greatest risk to them now. Therefore, Grant failed to see Lincoln skirting around the edge of the room, taking quiet and measured steps that brought him to a standstill in front of a small refrigerator. With a smile upon his lips, Lincoln slipped on a pair of blue latex gloves and retrieved the vial he required from the depths of the fridge. The tide was about to turn in their favour, and he couldn't help the feeling of smug satisfaction that knowledge brought with it.

****x-x-x** **

"Keep moving, come on," Matthew encouraged, one arm wrapped around the waist of one of the Inhumans he had liberated from the lab - a middle aged man who appeared still to be too doped up to fully have control of his own limbs.

"Stop…" Molly insisted, her features twisting into a grimace as she rested a palm on Chase's chest.

"Sis, we don't have time to…" Matthew began to retort, abruptly trailing off as Chase stopped walking and lowered his girlfriend to her feet, just in time for her to double over and empty the content of her stomach onto the floor of the hallway. Chase grabbed her waist to steady her, free hand rubbing the base of her back as she continued to wretch and sob, her arm encircling her stomach.

"Honey, we have to get moving," Chase encouraged her, noting how the other female Inhuman they had rescued had drifted to Molly's side and seized her free hand, almost as though they had developed a kind of camaraderie during their captivity.

"It's gone, they took it," she wailed, falling onto her knees and running a hand through her long hair as she cried inconsolably. "It's gone…"

"What has? What are you talking about, Mol?" Chase soothed, trying to help her stand, even as her legs shook uncontrollably.

"The baby," she whispered, "I'm so sorry… I'm so sorry, Chase… I tried… I really tried..."

Chase swallowed hard, placing both hands on either side of her face and forcing her to look up at him. The desperation and agony he saw reflected in her eyes was like a punch to the gut, unparalleled to anything he had ever witnessed before and so raw it was almost a palpable entity.

"Hey, you listen to me. None of this is your fault," taking a steadying breath, Chase tried to swallow down his own heartbreak and then gently passed his girlfriend over to her brother, who instantly enclosed her in an embrace.

"Get her out of here… I'll catch up with you," Chase ordered, his eyes drifting momentarily to the other Inhuman woman, who was gazing at him with unchecked sympathy.

"Where in the hell are you going?" Matthew demanded, clinging tighter to Molly as she swayed unsteadily on her feet.

Chase stared levelly at the older man, his jaw setting in anger. Nodding towards the hall they had just made their escape from, he growled, "To settle a score."


	22. Horror Baby Blonde, I Swear - Part III

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for violence and character deaths.

****

****Part Three** **

May had taken more than a few hits, resulting in blood running down the left side of her face and partially obscuring her vision in that eye. She was certain that a couple of fingers on her right hand were broken, and a stray bullet had grazed the base of her back, causing a nasty gash that she could feel oozing blood every time she moved. Perhaps most worryingly, however, she seemed to be in better condition than the majority of the Inhumans still standing on the makeshift battlefield.

She knew that at least six had fallen and would not be getting back up, whilst the remaining forty or so were showing clear signs of physical distress. Hands holding guns became less steady and dependable, and powers began to wane, failing completely in some cases when exhaustion seemed to overcome the wielder.

The fact was, they were growing more desperate and disparaged as the moments ticked by, and the guards continued to pour out of doorways and around corners as though they were in endless supply. May knew that they needed nothing short of a miracle if they hoped to carry out Skye and Ward's plans to completion, but to say her faith in such was long dead was an understatement.

"FitzSimmons, do you copy?" May panted, her hands finding the throat of a nearby guard who had been poised to shoot an unarmed and defenceless man at point blank range. Her fingers wrapped around his throat and with one swift movement, she wrenched his neck to the side. The angle was odd and unnatural, drawing a crack from the fractured bone, and yet bringing a smile to May's lips. If she was going down, she was determined to take as many of the murderous bastards with her as was humanly possible.

"May, are you holding up?" Simmons' desperately worried voice rang out on the comms. line, although sounding somewhat more muffled and robotic than it should thanks to the damage the device had sustained.

"Barely… do you have eyes on Skye and Ward?" she demanded, crossing the battlefield as observed two guards beating a young woman with nightsticks. The brunette was curled on the floor, attempting to shield her head from the blows with her arms, which were bearing the brunt of the violent attack.

"No… we lost them a few minutes ago…" Fitz spoke up, sounding characteristically nervous as he explained, "I don't think we accounted properly for the damages they'd be sustaining."

"Any sign of Ward's friends yet?" Jemma pressed hopefully, just as May appeared behind her first target and wrenched the nightstick from his hand. She turned it on him in a heartbeat, breaking his arm with her first blow and then his cheekbone with her second. He screamed in pain, collapsing to the ground like a sack of flour just a second before his partner attempted to come to his rescue. May used the baton like a sword, blocking and parrying the other guard's attempted strikes with very little effort.

If it weren't for the fact that Melinda May had been a pilot for over twenty years, she might have missed the subtle noise overhead that heralded the arrival of a jet. Knocking her current adversary to the ground, she glanced up at the sky, squinting to make out the shape of the quinjet through the cloaking device.

There wasn't time to question whether it was friend or foe - Ward's mysterious 'back-up' or Coulson calling in extra troops. Because seconds later a flat, spherical object whizzed past the Specialist at shoulder height, ricocheting off of a line of oncoming soldiers, who were immediately knocked out and fell like dominoes onto the ground.

It took May only a second longer to identify the infamous item and, turning around as a thud signalled the landing of two substantial feet on the ground, she came face to face with its owner.

Capturing the shield in his hand, he strode on towards her, effortlessly taking down two assailants who threw themselves in his direction. His uniform was something of a beacon amongst the crowd of black and grey, the distinctive red, white and blue emblazoned across his chest with the solitary star in the centre seemed to almost stop would-be attackers in their tracks.

"Good morning, ma'am. I believe you're in need of some assistance," Captain Steve Rogers joined his S.H.I.E.L.D. colleague with a polite nod of his head, watching from the corner of his eye as several of the soldiers and guards fled at the sight of him. Terrified whispers of 'it's him' and 'Captain America!' suddenly permeated the noise of battle.

May smiled in response; a positively smug grin that belayed her new confidence in their victory.

The fleeing soldiers didn't get far however, as the sound of a motorbike engine set them careering back onto the battlefield just as a black clad figure somersaulted through the cloud of dust and earth, landing amongst them with barely a sound.

"Agent Romanoff."

"Agent May."

May nodded in greeting, and a dangerous smile passed between the two women as they eyed the crowd of soldiers hesitantly approaching them.

"What are you waiting for, fellas?" Romanoff inquired, blowing a kiss into the crowd of guards that had gathered to stare at her. Their expressions ranged from awe straight through to unbridled fear, and Natasha only grinned as the first man ran at her full pelt with a battle cry that she assumed was intended to be alarming. May turned her back on the fight barely seconds after it had begun, not doubting Natasha's ability to take down the dozen men alone for even a moment.

May's attention had instead been captured by a brilliant red light that was descending down to the ground at speed, and seemed to be headed straight for the Captain himself. Instead of striking the Avenger, however, it landed at his right hand side, and May was surprised to find him beaming at it as though he recognised it like an old friend.

Blinking in surprise, May took a step backwards as the light began to fade and recede, revealing in at its centre a brunette woman wearing a leather jacket and knee high boots.

"You know what to do, Wanda?" Steve asked, tilting his head as he gazed down at the petite woman, who took just a moment to peer around the yard of the facility at the chaos bleeding into every corner before she nodded her head.

May watched, nothing short of amazed, as Wanda Maximoff held out both of her hands at her sides, and suddenly rose up above the ground again.

Closing her eyes, Scarlett Witch focused on the minds of each and every one of the Inhumans in the compound, directing them to fight their way out, to take back their freedom. She warned them to flee, that the compound would soon be at the mercy of Romanoff's explosives expertise, and to no longer be afraid; the Avengers were here.

Within the confines of the camp, crowds of Inhumans began to assemble. Those who had been hiding, confused and too frightened to join the fray, now led their fellow inmates to the fences and guard posts. Those with powers unleashed them, and those who could not instead used brute force to fight back against their captors. As hordes of men, women, and children overran the soldiers, they poured forth into the yard, over broken fences and the twisted wire that had once sealed them away from the world.

They flocked together, eyes drawn to the man in the centre of battle, to the shield that he brandished aloft, and they found their courage.

Natasha watched in satisfaction as the former prisoners bested their tormentors, the group working together to assist those still held inside the base. Captain America knocked down anyone and anything in his path, saving many a tired inhuman from the clutches of an armed guard as he strode across the battlefield.

Waiting for May to finish dispatching a particularly burly soldier, Romanoff planted her hands on her hips and levelled a truly murderous look towards the main building.

"Where's Coulson?"

****x-x-x** **

Ward was down, panting hard and resisting the urge to groan in pain as his ribcage protested. A heavy booted foot kicked out at him again and, although Grant managed to capture it this time, he lacked the strength to fling his attacker off his feet. The three Inhuman guards were too strong, too fast, but most of all too relentless; their blows were designed to kill, not maim or incapacitate, and each time Ward managed to survive another, he sent up a short prayer of thanks.

He was beginning to tire and from the few glances he had managed to shoot at Coulson, he knew that his former boss could see defeat written in his features and even his body language. However, Ward kept swinging; if he was going to lose this fight, he would at least draw a little blood first.

Skye cried out in pain from across the lab and, distracted and concerned, Ward barley managed to roll out of the way before the second assailant attempted to stamp on his head. He sprang to his feet, using a flip move that required more energy than he really had left to spare, and quickly looked towards Skye. He received a punch to the side of his head for his troubles, and he staggered back a few steps, momentarily seeing nothing other than stars.

One of the two guards focused on him suddenly stood back from the fight, and Ward was relieved to see him bow out of the attack with an almost robotic shuffle; until he watched him stride over to Skye and join his third counterpart in attempting to subdue her.

Suddenly filled with a renewed sense of rage, Ward somehow found an extra reserve of energy, and all thoughts of trying to simply fight off the super-powered soldiers left him as he looked over urgently towards Skye.

The two guards had managed to overpower her and were holding her under each arm, easily thwarting her attempts to fend them off. Despite the training both Ward himself and May had provided her with, Skye was relatively new to being a field agent and although ordinarily her powers aided her in a fight, she was nowhere near as experienced as the Specialists who had trained her.

Intercepting Coulson's smug and self-satisfied expression, Ward redoubled his efforts in fighting off the third guard, who continued to mercilessly launch himself at him. He managed to knock the man into a row of metal medical cabinets, leaving a dent where his head had connected with the door, but still he persisted.

Lincoln appeared suddenly from a small side treatment room and cast a cursory nod over to Coulson. In his hand he held a filled syringe, and he approached Skye with evident intent.

"Don't you fucking dare!" she yelled, struggling against the two guards, and wincing as she tasted blood in her mouth where the corner of her lip had split.

"If you struggle, you'll only make this worse," Lincoln informed her, striving hard to sound bored, although unable to thoroughly mask the somewhat fearful waver in his voice. "You might experience a slight burning sensation when…"

"Come near me with that thing and you won't believe where you'll experience a slight burning sensation," Skye retorted, her eyes wild as an almost feral snarl escaped her lips. She attempted to wrench her right shoulder from the grasp of the first Inhuman, but he yanked her arm up at the last second, drawing a pained gasp from her as her shoulder threatened to dislocate.

"Skye!" Ward yelled out, his desperation mounting as he watched the second Inhuman tug up the sleeve of Skye's tactical suit, exposing her upper arm.

"I will fucking kill you, Campbell," Ward warned, seizing the edge of the nearest metal table and slamming it into the stomach of his opponent. Anyone else would have been winded for several seconds at least by the blow, but the brainwashed Inhuman seemed to have felt nothing.

The guard lunged for him again, but Ward rolled out of his reach, using that moment to unsheathe the knife from inside his boot. Diving forwards, he stabbed the blade deep into the neck of the Inhuman, yanking it free when blood began to spurt from the gaping wound and the man collapsed to his knees.

"Son of a bitch!" Skye shouted as the needle pierced her skin and Lincoln prepared to press down the plunger on the syringe.

It took only a second longer for Ward to cross the room and land a vicious punch to the side of Lincoln's head, knocking the Inhuman onto the ground before he turned and landed an elbow in the face of one of the guards holding a struggling Skye.

Pulling the syringe carefully out of Skye's arm, he tossed the needle onto the ground, redoubling his efforts on the two guards as Skye managed to slip free of one of their holds.

Coulson watched the scene unfold with a glower, and he directed the guards' attention towards Ward once again, rolling his eyes as Lincoln remained sitting awkwardly on the floor, the syringe forgotten at his feet.

"I told you not to touch her," Ward repeated, his eyes narrowed as he glared at the blonde haired man with murderous intent.

The doors of the medical bay abruptly swung open, and Chase ran in without even surveying the scene before him. He instantly hurled himself at one of the Inhuman guards, knocking him immediately to the ground. Ward helped Skye fight off the remaining minion, preparing to stride over to a still startled Lincoln when Skye's hand landed gently on his arm.

"Leave him to me, Grant," she said, eyeing her former boyfriend closely, before turning to Ward and offering him a brief smile that conveyed she was no worse for wear.

Reluctant but secure in Skye's abilities to handle the situation, Ward nodded his head and quickly spun on his heel just in time to meet the several human guards that Coulson had ordered into the fray. The first man was flung over his head and against the opposing wall so easily that Ward was almost embarrassed for him, but he wasted no time in dwelling on a defeated opponent when so many more awaited him.

Skye advanced upon Lincoln, watching with satisfaction as he attempted to shuffle backwards, grimacing when his hands glided over broken glass.

"I never thought you could stoop this low," Skye growled, shaking her head as she moved forward, her eyes locked with those of her former lover. She saw only anger and accusation staring back at her, not even a hint of remorse at the horrors and pain he had inflicted on innocent people; on his own kind.

"If you're going to kill me just do it," Lincoln demanded, climbing unsteadily to his feet and finding that he swayed drunkenly, still suffering the after effects of the blow Grant had delivered to his temple.

"I'm not going to do that, Lincoln," Skye tutted, chuckling as she shook her head. The expression that descended over her bruised and bleeding features was nothing short of terrifying, and Lincoln found himself pressing his back against the wall, despite his initial bravado. The temptation was there to use his powers - send out a jolt of electricity that would bring Skye to her knees, but the very real risk existed that he would take the whole building up with such a move, and he would be no better off than attempting to go hand to hand with her. However, the one thing he hadn't banked on was Skye stooping down to retrieve the fallen syringe, her head cocked as she surveyed him.

Testing the weight of the syringe in her hand, Skye stared for a moment at the clear, innocuous looking solution it contained, before turning her eyes back to Lincoln.

"So… I guess you don't know what this does, yet, huh?" she asked almost conversationally, keeping a careful watch out of the corner of her eye for Coulson, who seemed to be approaching her from the side.

"Let's find out, shall we?!" she suggested, stepping forward and jabbing the needle into the Inhuman's neck. She depressed the plunger hurriedly as she felt Coulson stepping nearer.

"Back… off," Skye snarled, her head whipping around to face Coulson as she discarded the syringe. Stunned, Lincoln slid down the wall and back onto the ground, his hand tearing desperately at his neck.

"Skye… come on… it's just me," Coulson held up his hands defensively, noting with a slightly worried glance how Ward and Chase had already taken down another one of the Inhuman guards and were about to dispatch the third. Their human counterparts were fleeing already, and slowly but surely the S.H.I.E.L.D. director could feel his plan falling apart.

"Yeah, who just tried to stick me with whatever the hell's in that syringe, ordered my boyfriend dead… _again_ …" she spat, "and oh… who's responsible for trying to carry out genocide against my people. Just you… D.C."

The old, familiar name caught in her throat, and for a moment Skye mourned the loss of the only real father figure she'd ever known.

"Skye… _Daisy_ …" he tried desperately to appeal to her, noting that Ward was watching him closely, even as he and Chase fought off a fresh batch of suited soldiers that had been ordered to the lab.

"Touch me and I drop you on your ass," Skye warned, one eyebrow arched as she stared at him intently, "and I could take you, Coulson. We both know it. After all, I was trained by the best."

"It shouldn't be this way, not between us," Coulson said softly, his eyes seeming to mist over as he took a step towards Skye, who tensed at the threat of his proximity.

"I said stay away," she demanded, her voice like steel and her expression to match.

"You don't mean it, you've never really meant any of this and…" Coulson began, his desperation shining through as he implored Skye, continuing to take baby steps forwards. With a snarl, she seized a scalpel off the tray resting on the bench at her side and flung it at Coulson with deadly precision. However, he had half been expecting some sort of show of aggression, and his robotic hand shot up, catching the blade harmlessly between metal fingers.

"Chat's over," Skye declared, and she moved forward herself, fist raised ready to strike, when Lincoln's sudden screams drew both of their eyes to the floor where he lay, convulsing.

Having dealt with the last of the guards for the time being, Ward and Chase hurried over towards Lincoln, the former wearing an expression of utter horror as he watched the man's body writhe in apparent agony.

"Oh my God!" Skye gasped, falling back. All four pairs of eyes in the room - friend and foe alike - became transfixed in shock and revulsion at the sight of the Inhuman's reaction to the vaccine.

Veins began to bulge beneath his skin, growing more prominent as they visibly pulsated. Pain racked his body, and he gritted his teeth against wave after wave of all encompassing agony. Finally, a trickle of blood began to weep from beneath his bulging eyeballs, leaking too from his nostrils and the corners of his mouth. With a scream muted by a hideous gurgle of fresh blood, Lincoln's head rolled back against the tiles and his body was still.

Guilt immediately captured Skye in its grasp, although she could not possibly have known the effects of the serum beforehand. She had let herself believe that deep down, a small part of Lincoln still cared for her as a person at least - that it was not just his pride and dented ego that wanted her back. But it seemed clear now that he had held no real affection for her at all, and was willing to experiment on her like a proverbial lab rat with no idea of the consequences. Nonetheless, remorse filled her until she felt she could barely breathe.

Ward, however, was gripped by a very different emotion entirely.

Eyes still wide in revulsion, Ward rounded on Coulson and grabbed him about the collar, hauling him off the ground with minimal effort before slamming him into the observation window behind them so hard that a smear of blood marked the glass.

"That could've been her! That could've been Skye! You'd have done that to her? You sick, son of a bitch!" he fumed, unleashing a torrent of punches upon the older man, who appeared caught off guard by the unrestrained assault.

Spitting out a mouthful of blood, Coulson glared back at his former Specialist with a smile tugging at his bloodied lips. "You'd know all about that, huh? Grant Ward… murderer, traitor, psychopath. Did I miss anything out?"

Ward's only response was a roar of sheer fury, and his fist pulled back again and again only to continue driving into Coulson's face. The director raised his robotic limb, preparing to seize Grant around the throat in order to deter the attack, but Ward simply released the man from his grip. Coulson collapsed onto the floor, having been thoroughly unprepared for that particular move. He scooted as far away as possible from Lincoln's prone and lifeless body, disgust curling his lip upward as he noted the blood leaking across the tiles.

"You… you did that…" Ward growled, gesturing wildly around the lab with both hands at his sides as he continued, "you did all of this."

Coulson only blinked up at the other man, all traces of the once compassionate, kindly and gentle leader he had known seemingly wiped away. The shell of a person that stared back at Ward was disgusting to him; the very worst kind of an excuse for a human being - one who would not only sanction the torture of an abuse victim before agreeing to hand him back over to his abuser, but one who had spiralled so far in his ego-maniacal pursuit for his own definition of righteousness that he was willing to toss away the lives of innocent people as though they were pieces of trash that littered the landscape. There was no redeeming quality left in Coulson now, and Grant took an almost hesitant step backwards, the faces of the stricken children he had seen in the yard etched in his memory. Flashes of the woman who had died in their arms only days ago resurfaced in his mind unbidden, and he recalled the stench of blood that had been thick in the air as he and Skye had stepped through that forest camp. Words from the emails Coulson had batted so carelessly back and forth with the government - the way in which he had spoken of Skye as though she was an object, or an animal to be neutered and dominated - battered at Ward's self control, and he ground his teeth together if only to keep from howling his rage. Finally, Grant shot a last glance at Lincoln's broken and mutated body, his heart hitching for a moment in his chest as his logic reminded him that it could have been Skye staring glassy eyed at the ceiling. And at that, Grant Ward almost broke.

However, hands trembling worse than he had ever known them to before, Ward forced himself to step back, to go to Skye and encircle her waist with his arm as he stared down at Coulson with pure, unchecked disgust.

"I'm not going to kill you, Coulson," he declared, the venom in his voice toxic, "you're not worth my soul."

"Never pegged you as a coward, Ward," Coulson chuckled, blood spraying his chin with the gesture. "Always figured you for the final solution kind of guy."

The haunted expression behind Ward's eyes caught Skye off guard, and she stared up at him as he replied to Coulson's taunts. "Oh, I should kill you, Phil. It's what you did to me, remember?"

Pressing her palm to Grant's chest, Skye enveloped herself into his arms, desperate to feel the reassuring warmth of his body and the steady beating of his heart beneath her touch. Memories of Ward strapped to a lab table as FitzSimmons worked to destroy the entity that had taken over his body would haunt her until the end of her days, and the idea of what Coulson had done on Maveth made her sick to the stomach.

Enfolding Skye in his arms, Grant placed his hand on the back of her head and gently stroked her cheek as he stared down almost pityingly at the man who had been his murderer.

"But I've got enough to atone for, and I don't want more red in my ledger… you're just not worth it. I want you to pay for this… all of it." He glanced pointedly around the room. "You're done, Coulson. It's over."

Wiping a smear of blood from his mouth with the back of his hand, Coulson glared up at Ward, "You haven't got the guts to finish the job, Ward. You never did have."

Ward smirked, dark eyebrow arched in wry amusement. "Well we both know that's not true, but I won't do it to Skye because she's worth more than revenge. And you… I'm gonna show you the mercy you could never show me."

"Is this a private party or can anyone… well, shit…"

The familiar voice echoing from the doorway succeeded in drawing four pairs of eyes to the threshold of the lab, where Natasha Romanoff stood, hands planted on hips, as her dark eyes roved the scene of destruction before her.

"Here was me thinking I was needed," Black Widow almost grumbled, arching a brow at Ward, who offered her a thin smile as penitence.

"If you've got a pair of cuffs, you still might be," Ward replied, looking quickly from the spy to the man propped up against the wall, who was doing his level best to look anywhere but directly at the Avenger.

Nodding, Natasha prepared to move forwards, a warning regarding the explosives she had planted around the facility dying on her lips abruptly as a tall, muscular young man stepped in front of her, barring her path. She peered up into his face, handsome and boyish, but in that moment stretched taut with such visible emotional pain that she felt her heart stutter.

"That's it?" Chase whispered brokenly, looking from the spy to the two agents, who were leaning on each other somewhat tellingly. "That's all? He lies and he destroys and he murders our people, and we're just going to lock him up somewhere cosy, give him three square meals a day and a Netflix subscription?"

"Chase, I know…" Skye began, weariness sweeping through right to her bones as she took a step towards the boy, who shrugged off her well meaning touch even before her fingers could grasp his arm.

"No, this isn't good enough," he cried, tears welling in the corners of his eyes as he glared at Coulson, who remained tight lipped. "He deserves to die. He deserves pain, just like he gave them."

"We're better than that, kid," Ward interjected, shaking his head to punctuate his point, but only growing more dismayed when he noted the fat, salty droplets freely tripping Chase's cheeks. Ward's heartbeat began to quicken, as he sensed that there was some final blow yet to come - some piece of news that had all but shattered Chase's world and left him with a yearning for revenge that could never be truly sated.

"But he killed it…" Chase whispered, his shoulders slumping as he faced Grant, voice hollow and defeated, "he killed our baby."

Skye's eyes snapped closed, and she pressed her hand to her mouth to mute the sob she felt rising up from her chest. The callous and insidious nature of the camp, and Coulson's part in events, were almost too much to bare, and as Skye realised how she had let Molly and her child down, tears tripped her cheeks and splashed onto the front of her uniform.

Natasha's brow furrowed, and she stared in disbelief at the man she had once called her friend.

Her expression was cold and her voice even when she turned to address Chase, "You know what? I was never here. I saw nothing."

With that, she strolled towards the door, and Chase advanced upon Coulson. The wires from a nearby crash cart began to creep across the ground towards the S.H.I.E.L.D. director. Fuelled by nothing but pain and blinding rage, Chase controlled his powers with the kind of precision that usually escaped him.

"I know we're young… and… and this wasn't planned," he continued to take small steps forwards, "but I'd have been a good dad, sir. And Molly? She'd have been the greatest mom. And now it's gone… our baby's gone, and you… you did that. So now you're gonna have to pay."

Skye watched the scene in horror, torn between understanding Chase's need for vengeance, and still somehow not wanting to watch Coulson die. There had been moments when, early on with the team, she had thought him the kindest and wisest man she'd ever met.

Ward placed his hand in hers, unsure of what to do, and Skye slowly raised her troubled gaze to him, thinking aloud. "If it… if it was our baby…"

"He'd be dead already," Ward replied firmly, lifting her chin and sighing at the sight of the bruises scattered across her face. "What do you want me to do, Skye?"

Skye's eyes slammed closed as the wires wrapped themselves around Coulson's wrist and both ankles. The man stared in desperation at the Inhuman, sudden realisation dawning upon his features.

"I didn't know… whatever Lincoln did in the labs, I didn't…" Coulson trailed off, hysteria bubbling up in his voice as he persisted, "you have to believe me…"

"But I don't," Skye said flatly, eyes finally opening and affixing on Coulson, who stopped struggling for a moment, growing still.

Without another word, Skye turned on her heel and followed in the wake of the Black Widow, her legs moving as though they were somehow disconnected from her brain. Inside, she was screaming; grieving for the father figure who had died such a very long time ago. With a final backward glance at Coulson, who was tangled up in Chase's wires like a fly awaiting the spider, Ward strode out of the lab behind his girlfriend.

"I wish I didn't have to do this," Chase said through his tears, his remorse making him sick to his stomach. "But I can't let you hurt anybody else. I won't."

Coulson's eyes grew wide and suddenly, his robotic arm was twitching at his side. The fingers curled and flexed, and he let out a cry of both fear and surprise at the movements that were not of his own volition. The appendage shuddered for a moment before locking onto his throat, and Coulson attempted to rasp out one last plea for his life. Chase continued to focus, eyes watering as he glared at the man who had taken much from many, and he merely watched without any shred of satisfaction as Coulson's fingers choked the life out of his own body.

Chase stared as the colour drained from the older man's face, and then the Inhuman blinked back tears as he thought about all that had been lost.

There was a loud gurgle and then the metallic hand fell away from Coulson's throat. His eyes closed finally.

This time, the imprint of his hand lingered on his own skin.

****x-x-x** **

Holding up binoculars to his eyes, Cap surveyed the empty camp, saddened to sweep his gaze over the bodies littering the ground. Most were that of enemy soldiers, yet Steve was pleased that he and Natasha had managed to round up the majority of the others with injuries that would eventually heal. Although that would likely be in jail. After all, they were only men - weak and fallible in their loyalties and decisions - and Steve had never enjoyed death.

"Everybody's clear?" he double checked, using their vantage point to sweep the area one last time, almost paranoid that they could be leaving people behind.

"Yep," Natasha nodded, having already double-checked for any Inhuman prisoners or cowardly guards with the other Specialists. "We're good to go."

Nodding resolutely, Captain Rogers lowered the binoculars. "Blow it."

Natasha held her finger over the detonator in her hand, turning to May, Skye, and Ward, who stood behind her.

"You might wanna…" she mimed placing her hands over her ears, and immediately the three agents complied.

On a hillside overlooking the smoking ruins of the Inhuman facility, people gathered; men, women, children - hungry and afraid and weary, many still wearing the rags that had been forced upon them, and yet they stood united to watch their own personal Hell burn. The Avengers stood at the front of the party, Natasha with the detonator in her fingers, Steve with his hand on the shoulder of a widowed man, and Wanda with a newly orphaned child on her hip. The casualties and losses had been numerous, apparently on both sides, and Coulson and his cronies had certainly managed to wreak every ounce of the devastation they had sought to.

Those that wore suits or grey uniforms had been secured with handcuffs or rope and even zip ties as the victorious Inhumans had made use of whatever they could find to subdue the enemy with. They sat on the dirt floor or else knelt at the feet of their prisoners turned captors, staring off into the distance as though their crimes were just minor inconveniences to their day. They would pay; all of them. Black Widow and Captain America had already assured everybody of that.

Without another word, Natasha stabbed her index finger onto the button. The explosion rocked them, amber flame shooting skyward and clouds of smoke billowing out towards the haven of the hill like wicked, gnarled fingers. Some of the Inhumans shuddered, whilst others stepped closer to friends or family for comfort, and many just watched numbly as all evidence of their recent reality was consumed by fire.

When the dust cleared, the stillness was nothing short of eerie. There was silence all around, not even the soft cries of traumatised children carried on the breeze - just the total and perfect quiet.

They say that earth can bare the scars of atrocities once committed there, and that nature itself seems to know where great evil has occurred. As Skye watched the flames attempt to cleanse the ground, she was filled with one certainty; a shadow had fallen across that patch of once beautiful Virginia land, and the birds would never consent to sing there again.


	23. Knew That Life Could Never End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only an epilogue to go! Thanks for all the kudos and reviews, guys. We're happy you liked this fic - there's plenty more Skyeward to come. ;)

****

For decades to come, that day would be talked about; whether that would take the form of detached conversations in the lunch room over cold spaghetti, or whispers among green recruits as they lined up in the hallways of the Triskelion for the very first time - the day that the Inhumans and the Avengers had joined forces to lead a revolt against a corrupt leadership would go down in history with the likes of Peggy Carter herself. Skye had been prepared for as much.

What she hadn't been equipped to handle, however, were the looks of sympathy that had been levelled at them from the moment the hangar door of the quinjet had swung open. A crowd had gathered to watch them disembark and, as she limped from the plane with Ward and FitzSimmons flanking her, Skye had been surprised to find sorrow reflected in every pair of eyes that examined her. She had expected anger, unrest at the very least, and for the majority of her former co-workers to blame her for the death of their director. She had no way of knowing just how many of the agents assembled before them had agreed with Coulson's mission, but May had sworn blindly that she would have any such individuals rooted out and dishonourably discharged by the end of the week. After all, it was her responsibility as the temporary new leader of the organisation that had already taken more hits than one could generally withstand.

They walked to the living quarters with a collective silence hanging over them, all nursing physical and mental wounds. No doubt the latter would take much longer to heal.

When they reached her room, Skye tugged on Ward's hand, looking up at him almost desperately, "I don't want to be alone."

He nodded in understanding, bending down and pressing a kiss against her cheek as he spoke softly into her ear, "I'm not going anywhere, I promise. Let me grab some clean clothes from my room, and then we're gonna take a shower, and then you're gonna let Jemma take a look at you."

Rolling her eyes wearily, Skye gave his hand a reassuring squeeze, "Grant, I'm fine. Just a few cuts and bruises, and they're already healing."

Sighing in reluctant agreement, he nodded and pressed a very light and careful kiss against the corner of her mouth. "Alright. Give me a couple of minutes?"

She smiled weakly, opening the door of her room and shooting Fitz a sympathetic gaze as he lingered in his own doorway, still clearly shell shocked by recent events. She watched Ward stride off with tears pricking at her eyes, and an irritating burn in the back of her throat, which she tried to swallow down along with the sob she felt building in her chest.

As promised, Ward returned to her room minutes later, not surprised to find her combat gear strewn around the floor of the bedroom, and steam billowing from the adjoining bathroom.

Stripping out of his own clothes, he grimaced against the familiar ache in his shoulders, experimentally rolling his left shoulder around. He was rewarded with the grind of bone and cartilage. Aside from a superficial cut to his forehead, Ward had managed to escape the battle relatively unscathed. Although her physical wounds would be gone within days thanks to her mother's genetic influence, it was Skye's mental state Ward was more concerned about. As much as Coulson - and to an extent, May - had tried to harden her into the perfect S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, Ward knew the real Skye. He thought perhaps he was the only one who ever truly had. Despite the carefully crafted exterior, she was still the same gentle, free-spirited, and idealistic young woman she'd been when they'd first met. And his heart ached for the pain he knew she would be suffering.

Skye didn't so much as blink when Grant pulled back the shower curtain, but as he stepped in behind her and tenderly slid his arms around her waist, the last of her resolve wavered. She leaned back against him, her head hanging as she stared at the water swirling down the drain, some of it tainted with their blood and also joined by the tears that tripped her cheeks.

"Skye… it's just you and me," he spoke quietly into her ear, feeling her shiver in his arms despite the heat of the water. "Talk to me."

She turned around slowly, pressing her palm to his muscles and looking up at him with such heartbreak in her eyes that he felt physically pained to watch her. She pressed her cheek against his warm skin, leaving one hand lingering over his heart, before wrapping the other around his waist and sobbing miserably into his chest.

He kissed the top of her damp head, stroking her hair and caressing the edge of her hip with his thumb as he rested his forehead against her temple.

Skye's mind ricocheted between the events of the last few days, perhaps even years; her part in Lincoln's death that weighed heavily on her conscience, Coulson's betrayal and her uncharacteristically cold reaction to his death, Molly and Chase's pain, and even the callous and merciless way Coulson had treated Ward for all those years - all of it tormented her.

Shaking her head, Skye sobbed despairingly, "I feel like I can't breathe."

Wordlessly, Grant pulled her closer, hands sweeping her wet back as he simply held her, waiting for the storm to pass. It would take time, he was aware, to process it all. His dealings with Garrett had hardened him to many things, but the events of the day still had set even him reeling - torn on one hand between mourning the good man with the impressive collection of Captain America memorabilia, and on the other his fellow Inhumans who had been effectively exterminated. He quickly decided that the two were not mutually exclusive, or else he was certain he may have gone mad from trying to shut off his feelings.

They remained locked in an embrace long after the water began to run clear and cold, and Ward was forced to shut off the taps before guiding Skye out of the shower cubicle. She seemed fragile, and certainly damaged by everything that had transpired in a way that made Grant concerned that parts of her might never be the same again. He supposed that was only natural when a person's whole way of life had been turned on its head.

Ward wrapped a warm towel around her shoulders and rubbed her arms hurriedly, before leading her into the bedroom and gesturing down to the clothes he'd laid out for her. They'd only taken a few essential items with them when they'd fled the Playground, leaving most of their clothing still folded up in drawers and closets. In many ways it felt like they'd never left, and that perhaps made the realisation of just how things had changed that much harder.

Skye watched him fasten a towel around his waist, and they quickly dressed in silence, Skye pausing every now then then to shiver against the non-existent cold.

Sitting down on the bed, she dried the ends of her hair, glad to find it long and thick between her fingers again, back to how she started out - before S.H.I.E.L.D. tried to turn her into someone she wasn't.

Reflecting on who Coulson had been when she had first met him, and also on the young medical student she had first encountered at the Afterlife, Skye came to a reluctant conclusion.

"You know… Coulson was sure you'd brainwashed me," she stated, lifting her gaze to find Ward pulling a black sweater over his head. He joined her on the edge of the bed and placed his hand in hers, staring down at their fingers as they entangled.

Ward shrugged, the slightest trace of hurt tainting his voice, although he tried to shrug it off with a smirk.

"Yeah, well that's because he couldn't believe you could ever love a… " he recalled the words with suppressed anger, "treacherous, murderous, psychopath."

"Shut up," she nudged his arm playfully, gathering their hands into her lap as he kissed her temple. "And no… it wasn't. It was because _he_ was brainwashed. S.H.I.E.L.D.… it… it turns you into what the system wants, what it needs you to be. And in the end, you're just this shell of a person, this… this soldier, who doesn't question or make decisions for themselves. You just get the job done. Because it's for the greater good, right? There's no way the guy who took me in four years ago would ever be capable of doing the things… the things we found out about."

Ward nodded slowly, poised to reply when Skye continued, "I haven't known who Coulson really was for a long time. Not since before… before Maveth."

She grimaced, like the word left a bad taste in her mouth. "What he did to you… I…"

Skye shook her head, batting at her cheeks as tears streamed down her face, and Grant pulled her into his arms. He held her so tightly that she almost couldn't breathe but she made no move to draw away.

"I'm okay. I'm right here," he assured her, and she felt his chest rise and fall in a deep sigh, "maybe all that crap… maybe that was meant to happen. Because in the end, it brought me back to you, Skye. It gave me a second chance at life, a new start. And I'm not gonna waste it, I'm not gonna screw up again."

Licking her lips nervously, Skye averted her gaze from his face and said quietly, as if afraid of the words about to leave her lips, "I need to leave, Ward. I can't do this any more."

" _Uh… okay_."

She watched as a frown suddenly clouded Ward's features; he had obviously misunderstood her intent as to just who and what she was planning on leaving behind, and his grief was apparent in his expression.

"No!" she said urgently, reaching up and placing her hand against his cheek to steer his gaze back to hers. "I mean… S.H.I.E.L.D. I need to get out… for good."

Ward paused, blinking in surprise at Skye's conclusion, which was one he had truthfully come to of his own volition years before. However, he had found himself pulled back into the fold, and so keen to make amends with both the woman he still harboured feelings for and the team he had once looked upon as family that he had not once considered refusing. He had returned to S.H.I.E.L.D. without a backward glance, despite the voice in his head that argued and rallied against the idea.

Skye was a different story; S.H.I.E.L.D. had given her purpose, transformed her from an unwanted outcast with no place in the world into a strong, confident woman who commanded the respect of everyone she met. Ward wasn't entirely certain that Skye knew how to live in a reality without S.H.I.E.L.D. any more, but he would respect her wishes with the last breath in his body, should it ever come down to it. That morning, it perhaps almost had.

"You want to leave?" he checked, searching her face for any traces of confusion amongst the pain, and finding instead only perfect clarity in the set of her jaw and the depths of her eyes.

"Yes," she replied, reaching across the small space that divided them and capturing his hand in both of hers, "and if you don't want to come with me, I will understand… you've lost so much already that I couldn't…"

"Skye," interjected Ward, shaking his head as he removed his hand from her grasp and laid his index finger to her lips, persuading her into silence, "where you go, I go. We're a team. Always will be. The only reason I've stuck around here so long is because of you. You want out then… when do we leave?"

He removed his finger from her lips, and instead brushed the pad of his thumb over them, before leaning in and kissing her gently.

"Really?" she managed a smile as he cupped her cheek and noted for perhaps the thousandth time how he gazed at her with such open adoration and longing.

Ward smiled, content to simply stare at her before he replied, "Skye, I never knew I could love anybody the way I love you. I'll spend every day, for the rest of my life, right beside you." He looked down at her in earnest, and she moved forward to rest her forehead against his, her hand at the back of his neck, holding him near.

"Promise? Cos that's a pretty big deal, robot." She could almost have rolled her eyes at how needy she sounded in the moment, but having spent her entire life losing everything and everyone she cared about, his promise of forever was everything she'd never had before. And the fact it was him - them - made it all the more precious to her.

"Well, you're a pretty big deal to me," he countered, pleased when he prompted a puff of laughter and roll of eyes that was so very _Skye_.

After a pause, her lips twisted downwards again, and a flash of visible pain crossed her features. Ward scooted closer, his hands resting on her knees as he peered intently at her.

"I want to go soon," Skye said quietly, her eyes sweeping the room. She shuddered, a thousand unpleasant memories assaulting her all at once. There was so much to work through, and Skye was self aware enough to realise that none of it could be done when she felt trapped within her four walls.

"We'll get some rest, talk to the others first," Ward agreed, rubbing the back of Skye's hand with his thumb as he spoke, his voice low and comforting, "we can be ready to go in the morning."

"The sooner the better," said Skye, eyes returning to Ward's face, which still bore the damning evidence of the battle.

"Alright. Tomorrow," he agreed, watching as she stood up before seating herself on his lap and looping her arms around his neck. "Where do you want to go?"

Skye shrugged, pressing her cheek to his and letting her lips hover over his mouth.

"I don't know. We'll figure it out when we get there? Maybe we can stay in one of your safe houses," she suggested hopefully, "just… pretend to be normal for a while?"

Ward smiled, kissing her impulsively, "You are so much better than normal, Skye."

She consented to smile herself for a moment, before the events of the day caught up with her again and she felt her heart constrict with sadness. Nestling as close as possible, she sighed as he held her tighter in response.

"I love you."

He brushed his lips against hers in response, rubbing her back as she rested her head on his shoulder. Holding her against his chest, he lay back against the mattress and helped her scoot up the covers until they could lay entwined in the centre of the bed.

Thinking back over the past few days, the couple maintained silence, holding onto each other tightly, exchanging desperate kisses and caresses when their thoughts lingered on what they almost lost; what so many of their people __had__ lost.

The following morning they left the Playground for the final time, nothing but a few identity cards and a solitary S.H.I.E.L.D. badge left behind on an unmade bed.

****x-x-x** **

**__**Four weeks later…** _ _ **

Two cups of untouched coffee sat between them on the desk, along with a stack of official papers that neither had yet to make mention of. Business should have been well under way, but instead they had somehow managed to stumble onto a conversation about an old friend, whose loss they both still felt acutely every day.

In Steve Rogers' lap rested a signed, framed antique print of himself; the very same that had adorned every desk that Coulson had ever occupied throughout his whole S.H.I.E.L.D. career. It was the only memento of the man that Acting Director Melinda May had chosen to hold onto. Throwing it away had seemed like an insult, and yet sometimes, she feared that keeping it around amounted to the same. She had lost count of the number of times during the past two weeks that she had been forced to remind herself, often when laying alone in bed in the dark, that Phiil Coulson hadn't always been a monster; and that the misdeeds of his final months, perhaps years, in no way negated the good things he had once achieved in his life. In fact, those served as the foundation of her conversation with the Captain, who had only ever known Agent Coulson - the man whose hope and humanity had been intact.

"How'd he fall so far?" May wondered aloud, watching as Steve absently touched the glass on the print, wiping away a smudge with the pad of his finger. "How did I miss it? We used to be so close and I didn't even notice when or how it all changed."

Pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, Steve shook his head, at a loss for how this happened within the organisation; Peggy's beloved organisation.

"I don't know, Melinda," he confessed, "I don't know what's happened to this place… to S.H.I.E.L.D., but this is not the S.H.I.E.L.D. Peggy fought for, and I won't let this be her legacy."

May nodded, watching as Steve replaced the photograph on her desk, and he folded his hands over his abdomen. He glanced pointedly over towards the file that sat between them, mostly untouched.

"So… you read it?"

"Yeah. I'm just wondering who you think is gonna run the place, what with you and Natasha officially being off the grid." Melinda cocked her head, hoping against hope he wasn't about to dump this on her. Taking charge of S.H.I.E.L.D. was a mammoth task in itself, and she was only now starting to see a light at the end of the proverbial tunnel.

Steve shook his head, a smile blossoming on his face, "Well, not any more. Turner's first act as President was to officially pardon the Avengers. Seems he's more concerned with national security than playing the political game in Washington. Which… leaves me with some options now I'm a free citizen again, and all."

As he relayed news of the new president, he watched May's expression change from trepidation to intrigue. Once the evidence that Skye had retained on the USB stick had come to public light, coupled with the video footage that had been obtained from the facility before its destruction, President Ellis had been removed from office so quickly that May was certain his underwear was probably still in the night-stand in the Whitehouse. That had left her with the task of beginning to weed out those in her agency who had wilfully aided and abetted Coulson, before showing them to their new more compact quarters at the redesigned Fridge. It had been a task she had performed with relish, the faces of her young Inhuman friends at the forefront of her mind as she did so.

Captain Rogers sighed, offering May what he hoped was an encouraging smile as he began to share the finer details of his proposition.

"Look, it's been four weeks since the… incident," he referred to their liberation of Coulson's camp, a grimace twisting his lips downwards, "and we need to put measures in place to ensure that this never happens again. Why were so many people helpless, May? These are powered individuals, they're gifteds. Yet they couldn't defend themselves from S.H.I.E.L.D."

"What exactly are you suggesting, Captain?" May asked, eyes narrowed as she leaned back in her seat and toyed with the edge of the folder.

Steve flashed her a beaming smile. "An academy. An Inhuman academy. A place they can go to learn how to control their powers, to be a part of something. But I'm gonna need someone to run it…" he watched as May's head hit the back of her chair, and she released a weary breath as she noted the two photographs he'd pushed across the desk to her.

Grant Ward and Daisy Johnson.

"They're good, May," he acknowledged, "they're a team, they're leaders…"

"They're out of S.H.I.E.L.D.," May deadpanned, her tone gruff and almost exhausted simply at the idea of starting this particular conversation with Skye. "There's no way you'll bring them back in, Steve."

He paused, rubbing his jaw with one hand as he continued to gaze down at the photographs. It was difficult to reconcile the images of the stiff looking agents with the two passionate and talented fighters he had met, if albeit briefly.

"Would you trust them with this?" Steve pressed, finally leaning forwards across the desk towards May.

"There's nothing I wouldn't trust them with," she countered, running a hand through her hair and heaving a world weary sigh, which Steve acknowledged with a smile that was half way towards apologetic.

"I know you're neck deep in all of this," he began, pausing as May snorted out a laugh that wasn't at all ladylike or becoming of a Director.

"I never wanted this role but I'll do whatever has to be done to ensure that S.H.I.E.L.D. doesn't fall into the wrong hands again," May promised, "Captain, what you're asking of me now though… that's impossible. Skye and Grant, they don't want this life any more. They made as much abundantly clear to me, and well… they've earned their peace."

Steve nodded; if there was anybody who understood the desire for normality, for a home, for somewhere to belong, it was him. His chance for happiness had been lost to him some seventy five years ago, and there was no way he'd ruin their opportunity for the life they wanted. But something told him that perhaps this opportunity - to provide a much needed haven for their people - would be one they might consider.

"I understand that they want a normal life, May. But… they're not normal. They never will be. And they've got a chance to make a real difference here. Maybe we can just float the idea by them, see what they have to say?"

May shot him a truly thunderous glare, "You want to 'float' this by them, you go right ahead… but keep me out of it. Last I heard they were living in a condo in Southern California. I can get you the number of the burner phone Skye uses to stay in touch, but after that, this is all you, Steve."

Steve offered a genuine smile, simultaneously amused by May's fire and yet also touched by her very real concern for her former charges.

"Thank you," he said warmly, rising from his chair before leaning across the desk and planting a polite kiss on the apple of May's cheek, "Nat and I appreciate all of this. We can promise that you won't be left high and dry again, Director May. We'll be working closely with S.H.I.E.L.D. from now on."

Arching a brow, May retorted, "I'll most definitely be holding you to that, Captain Rogers."

Eyes twinkling as he offered up a salute, Steve said with a chuckle, "A man's word is his bond, Melinda."

****x-x-x** **

The bar was dimly lit, with Moroccan style lanterns hanging from the ceiling, and flickering candles placed at each table, providing an intimate, cosy atmosphere.

A pianist sat in the corner of the room, serenading the bar with jazz standards. Coupled with the somewhat vintage chic décor, it provided the patrons with the allusion that they had somehow stepped back in time to a gentler, more elegant era.

Examining the cocktail menu on the bar she sat perched at, Skye trailed a finger nail over the list of drinks, smiling at some of the old fashioned names as she passed over each one.

"So… what'll it be?" the bartender propped himself on his elbows in front of her, his eye trailing blatantly to the deep V in the top of her sun-dress without any hint of subtlety. He managed to drag his eyes back up to her face and awarded her a lopsided grin, apparently in some vague attempt at being considered charming.

Rolling her eyes at his behaviour, Skye chose to simply ignore it.

"Bourbon, straight up… no ice," she trawled the cocktail menu one final time, lips pursed, "and a Tom Collins."

"Woah, you sure you want to drink all that, sweetheart?" he raised both eyebrows at her, suddenly standing up straighter as a tall, dark haired man approached the bar, his gaze settling firmly on the young woman seated on the stool.

Skye smiled as she sensed Ward approaching and, as his fingertips ghosted down the exposed skin of her back, she shivered at his touch. She turned to face him with a beaming grin, murmuring faintly against his lips as he leaned over her and kissed her soundly.

"Hey, baby," he chuckled, eyes sweeping her long, flowing dress with approval, "making a new friend?"

He turned his head to face the barman, who was shooting him a thoroughly sour grimace.

"Nope," Skye popped the 'p' for emphasis, seizing Ward's hand and hopping down from the stool. Shooting a final glance at the barman, she pointed to the booth in the corner. "Can you bring those over to our table? Thanks!"

Ward couldn't resist shooting a smirk at the man as Skye tugged him in the direction she had indicated. He followed willingly, sliding into the bench at her side and resting a hand on her thigh.

"Grant, you can relax," Skye encouraged him, her voice low as she noted how he swept the room with his gaze, almost as though he was anticipating trouble.

"Sorry," he admonished, shooting her a wry look before he explained, "I think it's ingrained now."

She nodded, pausing to shoot a polite smile at the waitress who deposited their drinks on the table before scurrying off. It seemed that the bartender was far too wounded by her aversion to his flirtation to entertain doing it himself.

"We don't have to worry here," she continued once she was certain the woman was out of earshot, "May assured us we wouldn't be followed or watched, and I trust her. She had our back when we needed it most."

Ward bobbed his head in agreement, knowing that Skye was right and yet somehow still finding it difficult to relax his guard. After all, he had spent a lifetime looking over his shoulder in a bid to remain one step ahead of those that would seek to hurt him.

"Any news from FitzSimmons?" he inquired, hoping to shift the subject matter somewhat from that of S.H.I.E.L.D. to their friends. Skye's smile faltered and she gave a tiny shrug, which would have been undetectable if Ward were not so perceptive.

"They're still back home in Britain, figuring things out, Jemma said," Skye replied, her voice growing small as she confessed, "I'm not sure they'll come back, Grant. They both said they can't face working for S.H.I.E.L.D. again after… everything…"

He glanced down as she threaded her fingers through his, and he leaned closer to kiss her again. "We could go visit them if you want to."

Skye bobbed her head, pulling her drink across the table and taking a sip through the straw.

"I guess," she replied, frowning as she added, "we can pretty much do anything now."

Ward eyed her closely, not convinced that she saw this development as a wholly positive one.

"Skye?" Ward ducked his head and sought out her gaze, eyebrows raised as if indicating that he'd caught the maudlin undertone to her voice.

She sighed and offered him nothing more than a shrug. "I don't know, Grant. The last month has been good… amazing, even. We've not had to worry about anything, we can do what we want, go where we want…"

"But…" he coaxed, his arm sliding around her waist.

"Don't you think you're gonna get bored? Eventually, I mean?" She took another sip of her drink and stared up at him with wide eyes. "I mean, you're a Specialist, Ward. You don't really know how to do anything else. And I… I don't even know what I am. I don't ever see us as the cookie cutter, people carrier, white picket fence kind of couple, you know?!"

Ward laughed, swallowing a large mouthful of his drink and taking a moment to enjoy the familiar burn of the amber liquid. "Well I wasn't suggesting you hang up your gauntlets and be a soccer mom, Skye. You and I have… we have a lot of time to catch up on. So wherever we go, and whatever we do, I don't care. I just want to be with you."

Skye's smile grew wider and more radiant as she digested his words. She pushed her drink away momentarily and rested her head against his shoulder, her hand landing on his knee and giving it a small squeeze.

"You kind of have a way with words, you know that?" she murmured, planting a quick kiss on his jawline and managing to extract a smile from him.

"It's not exactly what I'm known for," he admitted, his smile turning into a wolfish grin, which Skye responded to only by scoffing. She reached for her drink again, taking a long sip from the straw and humming in approval.

"We don't have to rush into anything," she continued, licking her lips, "this is nice, just you and me, spending a little time together."

"It is," Ward agreed, raising his glass and peering at his girlfriend over the rim.

"And I'm not saying that one day I don't want those other… more permanent things with you…" she hastened to add, her cheeks growing pink as she avoided his gaze, "it's just that I want to feel like we have a purpose. Like we're making a difference outside of existing in our own little bubble."

Ward eyed her closely, his gaze suddenly faltering, and she reached up to caress his cheek but direct his eyes back to hers.

"What? What is it?" she asked, brushing her thumb over his jaw and angling her head as he claimed her mouth with a series of languid kisses.

Tugging gently on her lower lip with his teeth, he then directed his kisses across her cheek and down her neck. As he felt her breath hitch, he pulled her closer, and she grasped his thigh tightly in response.

"Keep that up and dinner's gonna be over before they bring out the entrées."

Skye smiled, closing her eyes indulgently as his hand slid across her back and he let his fingers take advantage of the low cut dress, caressing the small of her back.

His other hand slid up her ribcage and brushed the edge of her breast, and she groaned into his kisses, suddenly very aware of their surroundings.

"Or the… sleazy bar tender's gonna break out his camera phone if you keep feeling me up like that," Skye whispered, smirking up at him and patting his cheek in a placating move as she drew away from his kisses.

"So… what's up?" she demanded, one eyebrow arched as she ran her hand teasingly over his crotch and her eyebrow shot up wickedly, "aside from the obvious."

Ward laughed, gently removing her hand and kissing her palm. "Look, I know that sooner or later, one or both of us is gonna get bored. But… for the next couple of months, let's just take it easy. We'll go away somewhere… Hawaii… Mexico… just enjoy a little down time."

Skye almost reeled back in his arms as she exclaimed, "Grant Ward wants to take a vacation?"

Head cocked, he simply shrugged, reluctant to admit that he'd been experiencing an odd and wholly foreign sense of peace and contentment since they'd left S.H.I.E.L.D., and he wanted to preserve it for as long as possible.

"I guess I do," he allowed, running his eyes over her face and once more gazing at her in utter awe. Eight months together, and it still felt unreal to him; that she was his, that they were creating a life together. And that she loved him.

"Indulge me?"

Sliding her hand around the back of his neck, Skye tugged him closer, brushing her lips against his as she replied softly, "You drive a hard bargain…"

"So I've been told," he replied huskily, his breath warm against her ear.

"Okay," she said, finding herself rapidly getting lost in the depths of his dark eyes, "for the next couple of months, we go off grid… then… we'll decide what we want to do. Figure it out together, right?"

"Together," he reaffirmed, the grip on her waist indicating he had no intention of ever letting her go again, "all the way, baby."

Giggling at the path his lips had begun to take across her shoulder, she swatted him off, yet kept her fingers curled around his bicep. Glancing pointedly to the booths surrounding them, she traced her fingertips up his chest and tugged him forward by the collar of his shirt.

"So, you want to settle the check and we can go up to our room, or do you want to see how far we can go without getting arrested?" she quipped, biting her bottom lip seductively.

Ward winced, pretending to ponder her question, and the brief imagery of simply lying her back across the table and hitching her dress around her thighs made his dress pants suddenly feel a little too tight.

Kissing him one last time before she took a final sip of her cocktail, Skye gestured to the exit with a mischievous expression dancing across her face.

"Let's get out of here," she decided.

Ward watched as she stood up from the table and sauntered across the floor, hips swaying enticingly to ensure his eyes remained fixed on only her. And of course they did.

He threw down a wad of notes on the table and followed behind, shooting the bar tender a smirk as the man watched them with a slightly crestfallen expression.

Pausing in the arch that led to the elevators, Skye reached out towards Grant and smiled as their fingers locked together. Nudging his arm around her waist, she drew into his embrace, and they strolled along the hall together, indiscernible from all of the other young couples around them.

Whatever the future held, they'd face it together. For now, they would enjoy the normality and anonymity that their freedom allowed, although both certain that this uncharacteristic calm could not last. It just wasn't who they were any more.

But for the first time in their lives they had found a place to belong. It wasn't a shared cause, or an organisation to belong to, or even a home. It was with each other. And neither one of them was ever going to let go.


	24. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well, that's it, guys. As always, thanks for reading and reviewing.

**_Higher Higher, Get Higher Higher_ **

**__**Epilogue** _ _ **

**__**Six months later…** _ _ **

**__**North Salem, New York** _ _ **

Even the best laid plans often take a while to come to fruition, but they are seldom not worth the effort. As Skye stepped out of the car, her eyes scanning the sprawling three storey mansion-esque home before her, she couldn't help but appreciate Steve Rogers' determination and persistence anew. Once again, it appeared he had outdone himself, until his next monumental plan took shape at least.

"Woah… this is…" Skye stammered, pushing her sunglasses down to the tip of her nose in order to peer over the rim of them, "I mean…"

"Woah…" Ward agreed, sounding every inch as impressed as Skye did. Offering her his arm, he strode towards the entrance of the building, which sported a gold plaque bearing the insignia 'Margaret Carter's Academy of Excellence'.

"How very Professor X of him," Skye quipped, running the tip of her finger over the letters, a smile evoked by Steve's dedication to the memory of the only woman he had ever loved.

"Nah, those people are like a good ten miles away," Grant replied, placing his Aviators into the breast pocket of his suit jacket.

"Don't remind me," Skye grumbled, shaking her head in disdain, "Steve's doing his best to organise a game of football. I don't even want to think about the fire damage to the sports field."

Ward chuckled, glancing down at his dark, sharply tailored suit and once more feeling like a S.H.I.E.L.D. newbie.

Of course this time it was very different and, although affiliated with S.H.I.E.L.D., the Inhuman academy would be very much his and Skye's domain to manage as they saw fit. If they were to agree to run the institution, that is.

Leaning into his side as they strolled along, Skye grinned and poked him gently in the chest as she teased him. "Hey, maybe we could get Tom Brady to make a guest appearance?! Let you hold his trophy. Stroke his shirt… whatever makes you happy, Robot."

Ward consented to laugh, shaking his head as he wondered just how Skye had managed to retain that seemingly useless piece of information after so long.

"You know," she continued, as they drew to a halt in front of the very grand looking entrance, "I figured that whole thing was a lie… until we watched the Super Bowl last week, and your face just kind of lit up when the Patriots won. And since the only time I see you smile like that is when I take off my bra, I'm guessing that was real, and you do actually have a raging man crush on their star quarter-back."

"Best of all time," he retorted with a smirk, smiling down at her as she turned to face him and slid her arms around his waist.

"But then so are they…" he observed as he stared down suggestively at her chest, "and honestly, I think I'm gonna have to go with them."

The couple broke apart abruptly at the sound of a throat clearing from the doorway. Although they had not even had the foresight to ring the bell yet, too tangled up in each other, the front door had been pulled open, and a familiar woman waited impatiently for them to notice her.

"Simmons!" Skye squealed, momentarily forgetting Grant as she dove forward and seized the scientist in a bear hug. The other woman squeaked in mild protest but still returned the gesture with equal fervour, having dearly missed her best friend and co-conspirator during her time away in England.

"I thought you wouldn't be arriving until next week?" Skye persisted, slinging her arm around Jemma's shoulder as they sauntered into the impressive, marble tiled entrance hall. "Is Fitz here too?"

"Of course," Jemma scoffed, "the science department in 'Margaret Carter's Academy of Excellence' is hardly going to run itself, now is it?"

Skye chuckled, shaking her head as she pressed with one eyebrow raised, "How long have you been waiting to say that incredibly British name out loud?"

"Oh, at least three hours," Jemma replied, a pleased and also somewhat smug smile weaving its way across her lips. "Honestly, it's wonderful to see you."

"I'm just so glad you're back, and that you're staying," Skye enthused, squeezing Jemma's shoulder before she paused and planted a kiss against the scientist's cheek. "So… will you and Fitz be needing a double room?"

Jemma cleared her throat demurely, "I can't possibly imagine what you're inferring." The smirk she hid behind a small cough didn't escape Skye's attention.

"Will you and Ward be requiring a soundproof room?" Jemma retorted.

Skye snorted with laughter, rolling her eyes at Jemma's playful jibe, "Uh… totally. But don't worry, we'll make sure we're down the hall from you and Fitz."

"Would be appreciated, thank you," Jemma sniffed, suddenly forgetting their friendly banter and lunging forward to hug her friend once again. "It's so good to be back… for all of us to be together again, just like old times."

She smiled sadly, looking at Skye as she held her at arms' length; her wavy hair tumbling down her back, clad in a checked shirt, looking more like herself than Jemma could remember of late.

"Well, kind of," Skye replied quietly, glancing over at Ward, who blinked startled as Jemma hugged him, although somewhat more awkwardly.

"Good to see you too, Ward," she offered him a brief but genuine smile as she finally released him. "You both look… rested. Clearly a little globe trotting was just what the doctor ordered."

"It was," Skye agreed, standing next to Grant and beaming as he slipped his arm around her, "but I'm kind of antsy to get started here. I think."

Jemma's eyes were suddenly alight with an almost disconceritng degree of enthusiasm, "Ooooh, me too! I simply can't wait to see the labs. I hear they're state of the art… all the new gadgets and gizmos. Fitz is going to be thrilled!"

Skye opened her mouth to respond, her words dying on her lips as she noted movement from the corner of her eye and, when she turned her head to intercept it, found herself staring into the face of a young woman she hadn't seen in what felt like a lifetime.

"Molly…" Skye uttered, her smile immediately fading and her heart beginning to pound harder against her ribcage as she took a step towards the girl.

"Ah, yes," Simmons said softly, shooting a glance at Molly, who lingered at the bottom of the stairwell almost shyly. "I'll leave you three to catch up a little. I still have some unpacking to do upstairs."

Flashing Ward a final smile, Jemma scurried up the stairs, her boots clacking against the polished wood. Molly continued to stare at Skye and Ward, her hands knotted in front of her as though she were making a conscious effort not to fidget and appear as nervous as she actually felt.

"Long time no see," Molly said softly, shattering the uncomfortable silence with her gentle voice. Hesitating for just a moment, Skye moved forwards and enveloped the girl in a hug, relieved when she didn't pull away and instead looped her arms around the other Inhuman's neck.

"Steve mentioned he'd offered you and Chase places at the academy," Ward observed, stepping forwards and laying a hand on Molly's shoulder. The girl made no move to step out of Skye's embrace, however, her face buried in the older woman's shoulder.

"I was worried about you guys," stated Skye, gently disentangling herself from Molly's arms and drawing back in order to stroke tendrils of her blonde hair behind her ears.

Molly pulled away, tangling her fingers in the hem of the cardigan she wore. "We're okay. We're doing good. Thanks to you guys. I uh… I never did thank you…"

"No, I… I just wish we'd been able to… to do more," Skye replied, her guilt over not reaching the young woman soon enough still an ever present entity.

Molly shook her head resolutely, clasping Skye's hand tightly in her own, "It wasn't your fault. If it hadn't been for you, Chase and I wouldn't even be here right now. But we are. Chase can work on his powers, and I… well, I'll be helping in the orphanage for a little while. Then I'm thinking I might apply to college. Maybe be a teacher one day, at a place like this?!"

She stared around the expansive hallway of the school with a hopeful smile.

"That sounds like an awesome plan," said Skye, smiling at the girl, who chewed her bottom lip in response.

"Lots of people, they said it was for the best, you know?" Molly murmured, her smile faltering for a moment as a fresh wave of pain crashed across her features. Skye sucked in a breath, trying hard to steady herself against the sorrow in the young girl's eyes, which she was ill prepared to deal with.

"But it wasn't for the best," Molly stated, her tone ringing with finality, "something like that just never could be."

Skye shook her head, swallowing down the lump in her throat and hoping that the tears she blinked back were not immediately apparent in her eyes.

"No, it couldn't," agreed Skye, stroking her thumb over the back of her hand, and allowing Molly a watery smile, which the girl found herself unable to return.

"Maybe one day," Molly whispered, shrugging her shoulders as she continued, "not any time soon, but one day. I'd make a really great mom."

"You will," Skye replied, pulling the girl back into a fierce hug, which she returned with equal fervour. When the two women eventually drew away from each other, Molly was wearing her trademark smile again, any traces of her pain locked away carefully inside. She turned to Ward next and hugged him tightly.

"Hey, Agent Ward," she wrapped her arms around his waist and squeezed hard, and Skye had to diplomatically place her hand over her mouth to disguise the smile of amusement. No matter how attentive, affectionate and even tender Ward was with her, he was still not someone who could easily be deemed 'cuddly', and with first Jemma and then Molly invading his personal space, his expression was slightly perturbed to say the least.

"So… you want to give us the guided tour?" Skye asked, noting the grateful smile Ward shot her as Molly nodded with enthusiasm and began to lead them up the vast staircase. Skye reached out and caught Ward's hand in her own. He tangled their fingers together, noting the slight trepidation in her step.

Molly began to chatter, her excitement bleeding through into her voice as she pointed out dorm room after dorm room along with an impressive library, a rec. room and an art room complete with a kiln. It seemed that Captain Rogers had thought of everything, and Molly was keen to exhibit as much to Skye and Ward as they strolled through the still empty corridors.

After ten minutes of walking and persistent talking on Molly's part, the tour drew to a natural end, and Skye and Ward found themselves standing in front of an oak panelled office door that was marked with two simple words; Principals' Office.

Skye snorted as she eyed the lettering, taking a moment to shoot an amused glance at Ward.

"Figures," she said, gesturing to the sign, eyebrow arched, "I used to spend the majority of my time in there."

Nudging her gently, Ward leaned down and whispered in her ear, "Baby… this is our office."

Skye frowned, realisation suddenly dawning on her, and her expression appeared both awe struck and a little hesitant all at once. "Right. Yeah. Because… that's us, right? Co-Principals. I'm the Principal. Holy shit."

Ward laughed, eyeing the plaque adorning the door with a frown, "Maybe we can get them to change it to something less… penal."

Skye narrowed her eyes, and they stood comically side by side, arms folded across their chests. "I don't know what that is. But it sounds pretty dirty."

Shaking his head and sighing in amusement, Ward grinned as Skye linked her arm through his, and Molly continued to lead them towards the end of the long hall.

Hesitantly, she turned to face them, her smile fading somewhat. "And this… is the orphanage wing. There's eleven babies and toddlers here right now… the older kids are in the kindergarten. I guess about twenty in all."

Skye paused, swallowing hard as she peered through the doorway into the only series of rooms that appeared to be already in use. A few young men and women sat in varying spots on the carpet, some reading aloud stories from picture books, others helping to build towers of blocks for excitable toddlers, and another nursing a baby who appeared to be no more than a handful of months old at most.

"I didn't expect…" Skye stammered, shaking her head and frowning as she stepped away from the doorway, "I didn't realise we'd have orphans."

"A lot of kids lost people in the camps," Molly said sadly, stepping over the threshold of the doorway. Her face illuminated with a grin as a young boy spotted her and immediately made a beeline for her, wrapping his arms around her legs as he flung himself literally at her feet.

"Olleeeee!" he squealed, his chubby cheeks fractured by his wide smile. He giggled, arms flung upwards in a demand to be hefted into the Inhuman's waiting arms. Molly complied in an instant, pausing to brush a kiss against the child's head.

Peering around the room, Skye felt as though the air had been knocked out of her. She stared at each child in turn, not noticing the tears that tripped her cheeks until she felt then run warm down her neck.

Molly walked over to the other staff members, sitting and chatting animatedly as they wrangled the infants and toddlers together. Their smiles were kind and genuine, and Skye didn't doubt their dedication to their tiny charges.

Batting at her cheeks, Skye exhaled slowly as she felt Ward's arm wrap around her waist. She leaned back against him and allowed his embrace to soothe her. She placed her hands over his, the back of her head resting on his chest, and he kissed her cheek with tenderness.

"You really think we can do this, Grant?" She worried her bottom lip with her teeth, glancing up at him with wide and vaguely frightened eyes.

Ward shrugged, hugging her a little tighter in reassurance. "I know we can. You said you wanted to do something worthwhile. This is your chance, Skye. Our chance. We'll make mistakes, probably piss off a few people in the process, but we'll figure it out together."

Turning in his arms, Skye craned her neck and kissed him hard, starting suddenly as her phone vibrated in her pocket. Lifting it to eye level, she swiped her thumb across the screen and read the message with a building sense of both excitement and trepidation.

_'_ __So, what do you say?'_ _

She had to hand it to Steve, he was nothing if not persistent.

"Well?"

Skye showed Ward the phone screen and he smiled in response, offering her a shrug that conveyed only that he was with her no matter what.

Hesitating for just a moment, Skye swept her gaze around the room again before seeking out Grant's encouraging smile.

Fingers dancing fluidly across the keypad, she typed out her response and hit the 'send' button with more purpose than she had felt for longer than she could recall.

_'_ __Yes.'_ _


End file.
